


Why Not You?

by LerDan91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Bodyguard Harry Potter, Boys Kissing, Businessman Draco Malfoy, Closet case Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Frotting, Idiots in Love, M/M, Other Characters - Freeform, POV Draco Malfoy, Panicking Harry Potter, Pining Draco Malfoy, Rubbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerDan91/pseuds/LerDan91
Summary: Draco Malfoy left the wizarding world behind right after the war. He chose to live his life as a Muggle in NY. And he was doing a good job living until someone showed back up in his life to tell him otherwise.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 20
Kudos: 300





	Why Not You?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. I was feeling inspired and decided to write a one-shot Drarry for the Potter fandom. I hope you'll enjoy it.  
> The characters might sound OOC.  
> It's not Beta read. All mistakes are mine and the program called "Grammarly".

Draco Malfoy never thought he’d be in America, sitting at Starbucks, and sipping on Muggle coffee. But here he was. At the age of 28 years old, an outcast from the Magical community, Draco finally found his footing in the world. It came to him as a surprise when he took a step outside of the Magic World and into the Muggle one, how different everything felt to him. How the air was a bit more polluted with the cars they kept insisting on driving, and how they could smoke publicly, and how they were loud and naïve and selfish.

At first, he felt lost. His Galleons meant shit in this part of the world, his clothes were a _costume_ for them, and his rigid stance was part of the costume. It wasn’t part of his heritage, or part of his aristocratic blood running in his veins. No. It was just part of a costume for these Muggles. Part of these people who looked at him in admiration, and surprise, and some of them in disgust. Because, he later found out, that wearing costumes outside on the streets would get you all this attention that you didn’t ask for in the first place.

So here he was, living in America. In New York, to be more specific. Once he sold his house because someone out there was stupid enough to buy the Malfoy Manor for that price, he converted the Galleons he got from there into dollars. He then had access to his savings, because his parents were generous like that to him. Even though they were terrible at parenting and raising him, Father more than his mother, they still thought about his future. Which gave him a lot more than he expected it. After that, he started to travel the world, and finally settled in New York, where he bought a house, in cash, and he’d been living here for the last 6 years.

Now, Draco was trying to draw. It was something that he used to do a lot and got better in doing through the years of being shut away in his bedroom. But his mind was blanking out. More than once, he tried to draw _anything_ but his hands wouldn’t listen to him. So he just stopped.

He drank his coffee, he people watched, and enjoyed the rainy, autumn day. It was a quiet day. Much quieter than he had ever seen this city be. But he didn’t complain, because it only meant that he could easily spot anyone in the crowd.

Suddenly, he felt the familiar, but odd to him now, feeling of magic close to him. He sat up straighter and turned around to look inside the café. It was as lively as any other Starbucks place would be at this time of the day. He schooled his features because he didn’t want anyone’s attention on him, but his heart kept pounding as he felt the magic in the air pulsate with life. He knew this, he had felt this all of his life, but having to live in the Muggle world, he had to suppress anything that was connected with that part of the world. He had stored away his wand, and he was living as a Muggle now, but the tingling sensation in his fingers was unmistakable. The way his hair, at the back of his neck, stood up and the way there was a _shiver_ in the air as the magic grew closer to him was an unmistakable feeling.

Draco stared outside, at the people walked before him, and how they all looked _normal,_ non-magic folk, Muggle… there was nothing that screamed _magical_ about them. And yet, he could feel it.

He grabbed his cup of coffee and brought it up to his lips to take a sip, but before he could do any of it, he almost dropped it back down as he saw a flash of a familiar face in the crowd. It was a flash because one moment he was there, the next; there was no one there, and everyone was walking.

“Potter…?” he whispered, questioning, his eyebrows drawing in together. He looked at the street again, trying not to feel too alarmed by what he saw. He was losing it. Feeling shaken, and far more disturbing than he should be feeling, Draco stood up, grabbed his beige coat from the back of the chair, and walked out. Leaving behind his sketchbook and pencils, and the half-empty cup of coffee.

The rain was slowing down, and he now realized that he had left his umbrella behind, but he couldn’t think. His mind was going over _Potter, Potter, Potter, Magic_ … on a loop. His fingertips kept pitter-pattering with the energy. He stood right in the middle of the sidewalk, where people were walking fast in every direction, and he slowly turned around, trying to see where he was, where magic was, where _anything_ was.

But it was empty. Other than Muggles running around, and those goddamn pigeons and the cabs, there was no actual trace of Magic in the air and no Potter insight.

Sighing, and feeling out of sorts, Draco made his way back to the Starbucks to grab his stuff. The barista there smiled at him and gave back his stuff. The people who worked here knew him already; he went there way too many times. They kept his stuff behind the counter, so they gave him back his stuff. He thanked them and then left the café. It stopped raining now, so he held on to his umbrella in one hand, and his sketchbook in the other.

His apartment was a block away from the café, so it wasn’t going to take him long to get back there. He had to stop a couple of times and look behind him because he still couldn’t shake off the feeling of _Magic_ behind him, right behind his back, but there was nothing. Nothing. Clenching his jaws, he made his way to the apartment building, where the doorman greeted him with respect, and Draco returned his greeting.

He got inside the elevator, and pressed the button to his floor and waited for it to take him up. Once he was on his floor, he walked down the hallway and into his apartment. When he walked inside, he kicked the door shut, and turned the bolts to lock the door, and he was safe.

Safe from the outside, safe from the strong Magic feeling, safe from whatever it was that was following him. He sighed through his nose, and placed the umbrella by the door, and emptied his coat’s pockets before he hung it there was well. His apartment was a one-bedroom one, facing Central Park. It wasn’t a tiny place, nor was it huge. It was enough for him to live on his own for as long as he wanted. It felt nice, and cozy, even though it was in pastel and gray colors. His kitchen had an open-view plan; it was connected to the living room with a bar in-between them. There was a glass dining table close to the bar, and the living room had gray furniture with minimalistic coffee table on the side. His TV was mounted to the wall, and underneath it was an electrical fireplace. His bedroom was big enough to have a Cali-King sized bed in it, a walk-in closet, and a drawer close to the floor. His bedroom wall had a full-length mirror and in front of it was a yoga mat. He liked doing yoga before he left for work. The bathroom was closer to the kitchen. It had a bath, a showerhead, a toilet, and a sink. He liked the simplicity of it all.

He felt at ease once he realized that nothing was missing from his apartment, and nothing was amiss from there either. But there was that underlying feeling of _wrong-wrong-Magic-wrong_ and he didn’t know what it meant. He heard the familiar pit-pat of his cat running up, to greet him. He let her wind herself around his legs in greeting, brushing her head against his shins. He looked down at her, feeling too tense to even smile, but slightly feeling a bit more relaxed now that she was there with him.

Clenching his jaw, Draco made his way to his bedroom and walked into his walk-in. There was a safe, mounted into the wall, where he kept his valuables. He opened it quickly and searched for the box that held his wand. He shoved aside his father’s watch, his mother’s necklace, and some gold that he didn’t have the heart to get rid of, and finally found the box. He grabbed it in his hand and pulled it out. He let out a shaky breath as he stared at the black lean box in his hands.

He opened it and looked inside. There it was; his wand, broken and bent, useless. After the war, when he realized his wand was broken, the Ministry refused to give him a new one. So he kept his old pieces. He knew how to do wand-less magic, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the fact that it didn’t feel right to do magic without a wand in his hand. He felt like it wasn’t enough. He felt like a fraud when he used to do magic. Way before he decided it was time to settle down. But once he stopped traveling, and settled in finally, he stopped doing magic altogether.

No more heating up his coffee in the middle of a sip because it grew cold, no more turning on and off the lights whenever he wanted to, no more ironing or drying his clothes with a spell because that was always faster. Just… no more magic.

Sighing, he shoved it back inside the safe and slammed the door shut.

He changed out of his outside clothes, even though it was still afternoon, and the day was young, it still was raining outside and he didn’t think his friends were going to call him out for a drink or a hangout. So he got into his sweats and walked back out into the living room. He curled up on the couch and turned the TV on. There was a FRIENDS re-run on TV and he settled in to watch it. His cat joined him as he sat there, staring at the screen, his hand running through her fur, absentmindedly.

As he watched the show, he realized how lonely he was. He was living a lonely life. Yes, he did manage to make friends here, but he still felt lonely. All his life he made friends, _allies_ when it came to Hogwarts schoolmates, but he was still lonely. They were just there. No one asked him about his deepest darkest secrets, or about his fears, or what he wanted to do once he finished school or anything that was life-related.

At Hogwarts, no one knew him for him. They just knew enough to use it against him. Now when he was an adult and had friends, they still didn’t know him for him. They didn’t know where he was from. They didn’t know what he was. And they didn’t know he was part of the most hated magical families in the wizarding world.

They just knew him as Draco with-a-weird-ass-first-and-last-name-non-magic Malfoy. It was a good feeling because he had a clean slate and there was no one around him to give him a stink eye or to spit after him.

He turned the volume up on his TV to drown out the noise from the outside, but really, he was just trying to turn off his thoughts so he could stop thinking just for a second. At least he tried. But it was more of a feeling, than anything else. It was a pull at his fingertips as if they wanted to burst. It was a feeling right in his chest. He always knew what magic felt like, he always knew what it held, the power within, and all that.

It was going to burst out of him any minute, he could feel it, but he tried to calm down and reign it back in as much as he could. It wasn’t an easy task for him to do so, but he could always try. He could always try not to let it get the best of him. He could always try.

Maybe meditation would help him control it back down again. So he turned the volume off on TV, gently moved Kristy off of his lap, and padded back to his room, where his mat sat, welcoming. And then he started to turn off his mind from the outside world.

He could feel his magic reigning back in, where he kept it safe and away from the surface. It took him almost 40 minutes, but in the end, he was satisfied where he could only feel the consistent humming his magic gave him. He was fine.

* * *

A couple of days later he was grabbing lunch from the café two blocks away from his place when he felt it again. He clenched his jaw, but still manage to thank the barista for her service, and grabbed his lunch to head out. It was a sunny day and he wanted to sit out in the park and have his lunch. And he was having such a nice day too, but no. He had to deal with this stupidity that was chasing him now.

Still, Draco walked out of the café and walked down the block that would take him to his favorite spot in Central Park. He could feel it right behind him, but he kept his walk casual, almost a lazy stroll. His arm swinging at his side with his take out clutched in his hand, the other one inside his coat’s pocket.

Once he made it to the bench, he sat down there and took out his salad and started to eat it. He could feel the tense air right next to him and he tried to relax, long enough to eat halfway through his salad before he could speak. He didn’t know what the magic wanted, or if the magic was an actual person or a projectile of a person. He didn’t know if it was a dangerous one, or if it was friendly. All he knew about it was a feeling. He could be wrong. He could be paranoid. Living alone in the Muggle world probably made him go nutty, and he probably missed having a magical life. So it was probably part of his imagination.

“I know you’re out there,” he said, in a drawl, trying to sound blasé about it. But inside his chest, his heart was beating fast. “I don’t know who, or what, you are. But I know you’re there. And I would appreciate it if you were to show yourself and then leave me in peace… Potter.” The last part came out of him in hesitation, and he didn’t know if he was sure about it at first, but he took his chance. He probably sounded stupid saying it out loud, but if it was Potter himself, and not some bad magical beast, or _anything_ , then it wouldn’t look stupid at all.

The magical pulse intensified for only a moment because it transformed into a person, sitting next to him and staring at him. He looked older, somehow, but he still looked like Draco remembered him. He had a scruffy beard now, with his hair short, and yet unruly. He had changed his glasses, opting for a gold-rimmed one, which somehow, made his eyes look greener. The scar on his forehead was still there, but it was less pink than it used to be. He looked healthy, but there were dark rings under his eyes. He was wearing Muggle clothing. Jeans and a button-down shirt, with a navy-style green jacket. He had army boots on. He looked _good_ , overall.

Draco clenched his jaw as he stared at the man in his eyes, and then he turned back to his lunch.

“How did you know it was me?” his voice had gotten deeper.

Draco didn’t answer right away. He kept chewing on his food. Once he swallowed, he said, “I saw you in the crowd a couple of days ago. I wasn’t sure it was you. But then you never had that subtle.”

Potter snorted as he looked straight ahead, at the family passing by them, their dog trotting happily ahead of them. Draco glanced up at them, and they smiled at him. They were his neighbors, living in the same building, but not on the same floor. He could feel Potter looking at his profile, probably in shock, or surprise, he didn’t know, but he didn’t care enough to check. He turned back to his food. He was almost done with it, and his mind scrambled to come up with something else to distract himself with before he was finished. Because then he knew that Potter was going to want to have a full conversation.

“You are right,” he said. “I’m not a subtle person.” Draco snorted. “I’m here on business.”

“I don’t have a spare room for you, Potter,” he said, almost jokingly. Potter snorted.

“I wasn’t asking you- Look, I’m here on business. It took me a long time to find you. You have a very unique magical trace to yourself.” Draco stabbed his fork into his salad, and almost broke the plastic fork, but he finished eating. He started packing.

“So you were searching for me?” He held his take out in his hands; he didn’t know what he was waiting for. So he just sat there, waiting for Potter to respond.

“Yes,” he replied bluntly, with a force to his voice. “I was tracking you. But you were traveling too fast and too much and then I stopped. But then, recently, the Ministry told me to try and track you down again.”

“So you finally ended up becoming what you wanted to become?”

“Auror, Level 1,” Potter sounded sheepish, almost shy, but there was a trace of pride underneath it all.

“Congratulations, I’m sure your friends are very happy for you.”

Potter ignored him. “There were some extremely violent acts happening in the wizarding world recently. At the center of it, all are the children of the people that we lost.”

Draco’s heart was beating extremely hard in his chest. “What does that have to do with me?”

“We managed to catch some of them a week ago,” Potter said, still looking at him, at his face. Draco stopped looking into his eyes. They were too green under the sun. “And they finally cracked and told us what was the motivation behind their acts.”

“Let me guess,” Draco cut in. “They want revenge.”

Potter nodded, “They are not happy with the decision that the Ministry made, regarding your release.”

Draco looked up and into Potter’s eyes. They were unreadable. “They’re trying to find me,” he just knew that was the reason as to why Potter was here, all of a sudden.

“Yes,” he said. “As I said, they want revenge.”

“But, why me?”

“You’re the only Death Eater that isn’t rotting away in Azkaban right now,” he said, sounding surprised.

“Are you sure?” he asked, trying not to sound angry and hurt. Because he knew they were still out there. “What about Nott’s family? What about Parkinson’s? What abo-“

“Nott’s family is detained, on a house arrest. And Parkinson was never part of… she never bore the mark.”

“But her fa-“

“She, herself, never had the mark on her skin.”

Draco’s jaw snapped shut and his lips thinned into an angry line. He stood up from the bench and walked to the trash bin, where he dropped his empty container. He walked back to where Potter was sitting, staring up at him with his goddamn too green eyes, and his new hairstyle and his new glasses and his goddamn scruffy beard. His hands in his pocket, legs spread, looking all casual.

Draco tapped his finger against his thigh as he stared at him. Thinking.

He knew Potter wouldn’t lie to him about this. And he didn’t know how to lie either. He was just incapable of doing so. There was a tick to him that Draco started to recognize after years and years of looking at the boy from afar. He just knew that, right now, Potter wasn’t lying. So, with a sigh, he placed his hands in his pockets and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

* * *

An hour later found the boys inside Draco’s apartment. Draco was standing in the middle of his living room, with his arms crossed over his chest, his turtleneck tight on his skin, and sleeves rolled up. His jeans were tight on his thighs and legs. He was a striking figure from his gray-colored apartment, he easily fit in. Potter, however, was a sore thumb in his apartment. He had to take off his jacket and roll up his blue plaid button down’s sleeves to his elbows so he could work. Once they came in Kristy had run to meet Draco and greet him, but then she paused as she saw that he brought a stranger home. She looked up at Potter for only a second, before she purred and moved to greet Potter too. Potter, on his part, bent down and started to pet her, and she went mad with pleasure. Draco clenched his jaw, feeling betrayed, and somewhat surprised. Since his cat has never shown any interest in anyone he had brought home with him before, and now, she was showing off. And as Potter was busy petting the cat, his face relaxed for once, Draco noticed that his arms were covered in scars, but he didn’t dare ask.

They weren’t friends.

Potter was swishing his wand around the apartment, and Draco could feel the strong hum that was slowly surrounding him. Potter’s magic was strong, too strong, but it had a comforting warmness to him. It wasn’t aggressive and cutting like Draco’s used to be. He swallowed, and his heart started hammering away in his chest once more. He didn’t like feeling so out of sorts, almost out of control.

“Done,” Potter replied after ten minutes of swishing his wand around. Draco nodded tensely, avoiding eye contact. “Now, I have to do you.”

“What?” Potter was making his way to him, his wand raised. Draco took a couple of steps back from him. “Wait! What do you mean?”

“I’m going to put a trace on you,” Potter said. “So I can track you. So if there’s a problem, I can find you fast enough.”

“You think they’re going to find me?”

Potter shrugged and shook his head, “I don’t know. It’s just… better be safe than sorry, okay?”

Draco hesitated for only a minute, before he said, “Just go ahead and do it.”

Potter nodded and raised his wand. He did it nonverbally so Draco had no idea what incantations he was using to track Draco, but he was letting him do it anyway. He probably lost his mind, because he wondered why he wasn’t fighting Potter over this more. Telling him he could protect himself. Maybe, at the back of his mind, he didn’t fully believe Potter’s story… That could be it. Right?

Once Potter was finished, Draco didn’t feel any different from what he was feeling a moment ago before he started. He just felt warmer, somehow.

“There,” Potter said, his voice casual, taking a step back from Draco. “You’re all set.”

“Thanks,” Draco said, and he watched Potter fumble with his wand a bit. The man didn’t expect Draco to thank him, did he? Draco clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything.

“Yeah, uh, sure.” Draco’s assumption was confirmed. Potter walked back to where he placed his jacket and put it back on. “I better go now. Just, live your life, as usual, keep your wand on you, and try to be safe, okay?”

Draco didn’t want to let him know what condition his wand was at currently, so he just nodded. Potter nodded back and then he saw himself out, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Draco’s days were usually filled with meeting potential clients, talk about investments, and setting up business plans for families. He usually worked from home, on his laptop (one of the many genius things Muggles came up with), and if need be, meet them for a coffee in a café. He had an office, and people who worked for him, but he didn’t like going there a lot. He felt as if he was interfering with his employees' space whenever he’d go there, even though he had his own office.

He felt like an outsider in his own office. Familiar feeling, but still. He didn’t want to feel uncomfortable as he worked on the projects they had to take care of.

He expected his afternoon to go smoothly as any other day. Drink his coffee, with Kristy laying down on his lap, his paperwork spread out on the dinner table, with his laptop open on the side. Lead a conference calls with potential clients, and his employees. Just like any other day.

Today, however, his laptop decided to not work. His internet was wonky, and his TV wasn’t even turning on. His coffee maker had made the whirring sounds it usually made, but no coffee came out of it. Feeling frustrated, he looked around and tried to figure out what could cause this destruction. He wracked his brain; he had paid the utility bills, the Wi-Fi as well, what else was there to pay?

And then it clicked.

“Son of a-“ Draco marched into his bedroom and into his closet to get his outside clothes on. As he got dressed, he realized that he had no idea where he was going to go to find Potter. This was his doing. The magic was interfering with his electronics. He needed them to work because he had business to take care of. And he didn’t want to go into the office today. But as he was doing his hair, he realized that he had no other choice, but to go in.

“Damn it.”

He grabbed a bag and shoved the most important files into it, and then added his laptop in there. He kissed Kristy at the top of her head and walked out of the apartment. It was a good thing that the weather was nice out because he didn’t feel like hailing a cab. And so he walked. His office was a way down from his block, but he didn’t mind walking. Living in NY taught him that; you either walked (fast), took the subway (some uncomfortable run-ins with old pervy men squeaked him out more than once), rode a bike or had a death wish and decided to face the streets with a car of your own.

Draco preferred either walking or the subway. Before he reached his office, he stopped by Starbucks to grab him, and the others in the office, some coffee and lunch as well. They were always friendlier when he’d bring in coffee.

Once he got there he realized that the place was too quiet. Frowning, he walked in, expecting it to be more chaotic than it seemed to be, but it wasn’t. His employees were in the office, but none of them were answering telephone calls or were in front of their computers. It seemed that they were having the same problem.

“What’s happening?” he asked them all, at once, expecting a reply. Because when he asked something, he expected an affirmative reply from all of them at once. But this time, they all looked at him confused.

“We don’t know,” Jane replied. She was the closest sitting to him. “Since we came in this morning, everything has been shut down. We’ve called in the guys to come and check things out, and they told us that everything seems to be fine, and then left. But obviously,” she flapped her hands around her, indicating the office, - “Nothing is fine.” Draco placed the coffees and everything he brought in with him at her table and walked further in. He didn’t have to concentrate to know why nothing was working.

There was magic in the air. He knew that Potter had been here and had done the same thing as what he had done at his apartment. Trying not to feel too annoyed, and failing miserably at that, he went into his office and slammed the door shut after him. He could hear them murmuring after him, but he ignored them.

This wasn’t the time for him to think about what they were gossiping about. Maybe they were complaining about his anger or the way he was handling this thing. Or nothing at all.

He paced the floor, back and forth, back and forth, until he got dizzy. He had to get a hold of Potter right away so he could fix up the charms on this and his office. That stupid man didn’t even think that he needed the place to run on electricity. He probably didn’t even realize that Draco’s apartment ran like any other normal Muggle household. But then, why would he bother?

When has he ever done anything that would work out on Draco’s favor? When had he ever thought or taken into consideration about what Draco wanted? There was never a time where he was actually on Draco’s side.

Flashbacks of the trial where Potter yelled at _Wizengamot_ about how unfair they were all being by the verdict with which they wanted to destroy Draco’s life came to his mind and he stopped pacing. He remembered how Potter was there at every trial, speaking on Draco’s behalf, and trying to clean his name as much as he could. And because he was _the boy who lived_ he got away with it. Anything Potter wanted, they’d give it to him in 0.5 seconds. And this was not something that he didn’t get his way. He did.

Potter never cared about what would happen to his father and mother, but he cared about Draco enough to show up himself and defend him against the Ministry. The boy stood there, like the hero he was, and screamed until he was red in the face until he got what he wanted until Draco took a step outside and breathed in the fresh air. His life got hard after it, of course, but at least he wasn’t rotting away in Azkaban.

Draco took a calming breath and thought of a way to contact Potter, without using magic. He didn’t have a wand to conjure a _Patronus_ , as if he could conjure one. So he had to come up with a solution. They could either pack and leave for home, which wasn’t the best option for now, or they could pack and go somewhere with Wi-Fi access.

He sighed, made sure his face held no distressing emotions, and he left his office to the main area, where his employees were huddled together to talk to each other. The coffee cups were empty, and they were take-out papers here and there. As soon as they saw him they all stood up straighter, and hushed each other.

“I’m sorry that we hit such difficulties today. On such an important day as well, I knew we were going to be busy and I didn’t even think to-“ he shook his head. They didn’t know what the reason was. And they didn’t need to know why. “I have come up with a solution; go somewhere that has working wifi with everything we need to work. Now, if anyone of you doesn’t want to work in such conditions, you are all free to go home. You will still get paid. I apologize, again.”

Only two people decided to leave since they had families and kids in school and wanted to have that extra hour spent on them. Draco nodded at them, trying to look understanding, but failing miserably. So that left about 5 other people to work with. They all packed the essentials and discarded of the coffee cups and traces of their lunch.

They walked across the street where there was a restaurant, with free Wi-Fi. They ordered food and deserts and more lunch, and then they settled in with their laptops to eat. And then they started working.

It took them hours to take care of the projects they needed to take care of today, but in the end, Draco was satisfied with the outcome. “Great job, everyone,” he said. “Work from home tomorrow, till I figure out what’s happening at the office. Once I know more, I’ll send out an e-mail.”

Everyone thanked him and started to pack. He took care of the bill, that was the least he could do. And before he could leave, he saw Potter standing outside the restaurant, with his hands inside his pocket, looking straight at Draco.

Draco clenched his jaw, and his face went carefully blank. He wasn’t going to lose his temper in front of anyone, especially his employees. Instead, he wished them good night and walked out of the restaurant and in the direction of his apartment. He could hear Potter fast-walking after him, trying to catch up with him.

“Hey, wait-“

 _Why?_ “Why? So you can act like a complete git? So you can cost me my business?” _So I can look like an incompetent of taking care of things, on my own? So I can look helpless?_

“Just- Listen, I didn’t realize the protection I was putting on was going to interfere with the Muggle equipment, okay? Just let me come back with you to your office and let me fix everything up, okay?”

Draco stopped walking and turned around to face Potter, who almost bumped into him. “And my apartment.”

“And your apartment. Yes, of course!”

“How is it that you managed to land yourself a job so high up in ranks, and yet you’re still such an idiot.”

“I asked myself that every day, trust me.”

Draco rolled his eyes and started to make his way back to his office, Potter keeping up the pace this time. Once they got back to the office, Draco made sure that it was only them in there, before he nodded at Potter, who took out his wand and started to wave it around. The minute he was done, everything started back up again, and Draco’s phone started to chime with e-mails. The Wi-Fi was up again.

They went back to Draco’s apartment next. The walk back was quiet and tense, and Draco didn’t know how to break it. It didn’t look like Potter was going to break the silence either, so Draco kept his mouth shut. He was too prideful to take the first step.

Once inside, Kristy greeted Draco and Potter the same way as before, but this time Potter knelt on the floor to pet Kristy a some more. Draco was looking at them in wonder, and he was clutching his phone, hard, in his hand.

He was jealous of his cat being friendly with a man who was _not_ his friend.

He rolled his eyes at himself for being so ridiculous. And waited impatiently for Potter to be done with his cat. He leaned to the side, jutting out his hip as he crossed his arms over his chest. And waited some more. At last, Potter looked up and saw Draco looking at him. He blushed as he stood up and said.

“Sorry. I just…like animals,” he looked sheepish as he said it. He shook his head, and took out his hand and started to take care of his apartment. Moments later, Draco felt the change and he started to relax.

“All done,” Potter said. “You can take care of your business now. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. Thanks.”

“Yeah. No problem. Uhm…” Potter hesitated for a moment before he reached inside his pocket and took out a card. “Here.” He put it on the coffee table. “That’s my phone number.”

“Muggle number?”

“Yeah. Cell phone number,” Potter replied, nodding. He hesitated for only a second before he said, sounding nonchalant, “I live in this building. It’s a couple of floors down.”

“You can afford this place?” he blurted out before he could think about it, his mouth slamming shut after he said it, feeling embarrassed about his outburst.

Potter laughed, “Yeah. Well, not so much, but yeah. I mean the Ministry’s going to pay me back, because I’m here on business, not a personal trip, so yeah. It’s all good.”

“Sorry. That was rude.”

“Trust me, it’s refreshing.”

He said that, a lot. _Trust me._ As if it was such an easy thing to do, given their past. But he was probably saying it because it was just that – a saying. He nodded and gave Potter a look. He had no idea what he was trying to say, but after some time, Potter huffed out a sigh and said, “Okay. Time for me to go. Hope to not see you around, and you keep safe.”

And then he left, letting the door slam shut after him. Draco almost screamed in frustration.

* * *

Days passed by and Draco stopped worrying about the magic he could feel wherever he went off to. He had business to run. And once it started to get closer to Thanksgiving, the business started to slow down. Usually, Draco went out for a drink or two with his friends, but this year they were all traveling to visit their families.

2 days before Thanksgiving he had sent out an e-mail to his employees, letting them know that they were closing for that weekend. He got the affirmative and very positive messages back from them.

He still worked on new projects, just to keep them on track and just to keep himself busy. Kristy would be laying down in his lap, or at the chair next to him. It was Thanksgiving evening when there was a knock on his door. He pretended that he didn’t hear it, but whoever was outside, kept knocking.

Draco had a feeling as to who it could be. Since he wasn’t expecting company, and there was no way any of his friends had decided to come back early and to spend the evening with him, it all dialed down to one person; Potter. That insufferable, pain in the ass, man. Draco hung his head down, as he paused his typing. Long enough to take a deep, calming breath, long enough for his cat to act like a goddamn dog and run to the front door and meow at it. Letting out a whine, he saved the file he was working on and padded to the front door.

He opened it fully and saw that it was, indeed, Potter. Standing in front of him with, what seemed to be, a store-bought apple pie. He was wearing jeans, and a navy blue shirt, sleeves rolled up. A small pouch on his belt, where his wand dangled off of, in full view.

“Your confidence turned you into a fool,” Draco said, as a way of greeting.

“What?” Potter asked, dumbly. Then he looked down at what Draco was staring at and said with a shrug. “They won’t see it.”

Draco stared at him blankly but didn’t say anything. Potter stood there, with his hair all messed up, with his eyes big and innocent, looking at him. Waiting. Draco motioned for him to say something, but the man just stood there.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Draco snapped at him. Potter shrugged, his face carefully blank, but his eyes held slight mirth to them. “Come on in, O’ Lord and Savior of Human Kind.”

“Don’t call me that,” Potter told him as he stepped inside fully. He moved to the dining table and placed the pie on it. As Draco approached him from behind, he watched as Potter dipped down to rub Kristy’s head as she practically went crazy from happiness to see him. “Hi,” Potter whispered, his voice going softer. Draco didn’t know why he was so attuned to the way Potter spoke, but here he was. Noticing the small things, the other man did.

Pursing his lips, Draco moved to the other side of the dining table and started to gather his paperwork. As he worked on that, Potter cradled Kristy in his arms and stood up straighter. Kristy practically melting in his arms. Draco gave her an annoyed look, and Potter saw it.

“I hope I wasn’t intruding on you,” he said, with a nod at the table.

“No,” Draco replied. “I should’ve stopped working an hour ago.”

“What do you do, exactly?”

Draco piled up his papers into a stack and hefted them up in his arms. “Investing and business plans for families. There are a lot of families out there who have thousands in their names and don’t know what to do with them. I help them out as much as I can.”

“Sounds…cool,” Potter said, with a nod, watching him clean up.

“Sounds _Muggle-like,_ you mean?” Draco tried not to snap, but he was feeling defensive. He worked for years on this company to be where it was at. And to have Potter, of all people, come here and judge him for it… it wasn’t something Draco wanted to have.

“No,” Potter snapped back. “I meant _cool._ That’s literally what I said. Because it is.”

Draco walked into his bedroom and dumped his papers at the top of his drawers. He leaned against it and closed his eyes. He didn’t know why Potter was here, didn’t know what the other man wanted. He didn’t even know what he was going to talk to him about. Maybe not snapping at one another would be a great place to start.

Taking a breath, he walked out of his bedroom to find Potter sitting on one of his couches. Kristy was sitting in his lap, looking content with Potter’s fingers running through her fur. He rolled his eyes at them and walked to the kitchen, where he grabbed a bottle of water. He leaned against the counter as he drank it from there and looked at the back of Potter’s head. He seemed relaxed. Draco wouldn’t be able to be this relaxed if the roles were reversed. Maybe that’s because of Potter’s years of training as an Auror made him get this relaxed.

Draco would never. He entertained the thought of chucking a bottle of water at Potter’s head to see how his reflexes worked. Just to keep him amused, but he didn’t. Because he also knew that Potter was a powerful wizard and he’d turn Draco into a teakettle in a heartbeat, even before Draco would make a move.

“What do you usually do?” Potter asked suddenly, without turning around to look at Draco.

“What?”

“On this day,” now he turned his head to look at Draco. “On Thanksgiving? What do you do?”

“What makes you assume I celebrate it?”

Potter turned his body around now, hooking his leg up on the couch, resting his arm at the back of it, while holding on to Kristy with the other. “Well, you’ve been living here for the last, what, 5 years? I just assumed you picked up on some Muggle-American traditions.”

Draco gave him a blank look, as he thought about how truthfully he wanted to answer. How much he enjoyed celebrating American holidays, yes even though most of the time he had to do it himself. In the end, he went for the truth. “I usually spend it out, with friends. But not this year.”

“Why, because of the people trying to find you?” Potter asked, frowning, worry in his green-green eyes.

“ _No,_ ” Draco said. “My friends left the country to visit their parents.”

“Oh,” Potter said, looking away and nodding. “That makes sense.”

“What are you doing here, Potter?” Draco asked, finishing his water. He dropped the empty bottle in his trash bin and walked to where the dining table was at.

Potter shrugged and said, “I didn’t want to spend the day alone.”

“You don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving.”

“Nope.”

And that was the end of that. Draco continued looking at Potter’s profile, trying to figure out the man, but there was nothing. He kept petting his cat and acting as if this was normal for them. Hanging out together on a Thursday, while it was cloudy outside, looking to rain. Hanging out as if they were _friends_.

They were not friends.

“I don’t want or need your company,” Draco said after a while.

“I know,” Potter said, sitting up straighter, moving Kristy around a bit. “Never said you needed it.”

“And I also can take care of myself,” Draco took a step closer to the couch.

“Never said you couldn’t either.”

Draco jaw snapped shut as he stared at the man. Annoying. Frustrating. “Potter.”

“Where did you find her anyway?” Potter asked, ignoring him.

“She was starving, tiny, and almost dead when I found her. Couldn’t keep her out on the street like that.”

“Aww… That’s cute,” Potter said, his voice going squeaky. He wasn’t mocking. “Who would’ve thought. Draco Malfoy isn’t heartless.”

Draco clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well.”

“I’m serious.”

“Never been heartless.”

“Didn’t seem like it at school.”

“Yeah, well. You were right down git.”

“Sure I was.”

“You were.”

“Although, I was still better at Quidditch than you’d ever be.”

Draco huffed. “Oh please. I was born to play Quidditch.”

“Sure.”

“Potter.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Don’t be a dick, then.”

Draco huffed again and ignored him for the next 30 minutes. He sat down on the couch, as far from Potter as he could, and turned on the TV. _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ was on TV, Draco changed the channel quickly.

“Oi!” Potter cried out.

“What?”

“Why did you change the channel? I wanted to watch it.”

“Overhyped by the Americans, just like anything else that they have created.”

“Seriously?” Potter said, indignantly. “Ugh! I can’t believe you. That movie is awesome. You can watch it whenever you want and it doesn’t matter if it’s a Christmas movie or a Halloween movie. It’s the best movie out there!”

“You’re not American and yet, you sound like one when it comes to these things.”

“Says the bloke who is living in _America,_ ” Potter said with an eye-role.

“Yes,” Draco replied with a nod. “That’s only because the Wizarding World was nothing, but friendly to me after the war.”

That seemed to shut Potter up because he didn’t say anything for the next couple of minutes. After a while, he sighed and said, “Seriously, though. That movie is brilliant.”

Draco let out a groan and turned the channel back to where it aired at. He dropped the remote control beside him and crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to pout.

After some time, he started to get hungry, so they ordered in. Thankfully, there was a sushi restaurant nearby that was open on this day and did deliveries. Once the food came in, Draco tipped the delivery guy in cash. The man thanked him and wished them a Happy Thanksgiving. When he came back to the kitchen, he saw Potter in his kitchen, taking out some plates and utensils for them. Using magic.

Draco froze and tried to act as if this was nothing new, or out of ordinary. His slight hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by Potter, who looked at him curiously. Draco ignored him. He grabbed the plates, by hand, and took them to the living room, where he put them on the coffee table. He dropped the takeout bags next to them and walked back to the kitchen for glasses.

“I got it,” Potter told him as he grabbed two glasses from the shelves. Draco nodded and tried to relax. This wasn’t anything new. He had people over and they all used his kitchen as if it was their own. But this felt different, with Potter. It felt different.

He didn’t know what type of different; it was just different.

So he sat on the couch, next to Potter and they piled their plates with food. He started to change the channels before he dove into his food. _Lord of the Rings_ was on TV so he stopped there, to watch it. Potter snorted. Draco ignored him.

“I never thought you’d watch this,” he said conversationally.

“Why not?”

“Because… I feel like it’s too close to our world, you know?” Potter said flicking his hand back and forth between them and the TV.

“Close to our world?”

“Well, Gandalf is Dumbledore,” Draco tried not to laugh. “Uh… Pippin and Merry are Fred and George. Saruman is Voldemort. Gimli is Hagrid.”

“Who's Sam?”

“Ron.”

Draco snorted. "And that makes you Frodo, doesn't it?"

Potter shifted uncomfortably. "Uhm... yeah."

Draco shook his head and pursed his lips to not laugh out loud. Once they were done with the food, and they took care of the trash and the plates. Then Draco took out the wine, after a second of hesitation, and then poured them both a generous amount of alcohol in their wine glasses. He made it back to the couch, where Potter had taken off his shoes, and he was slouched down on the couch. Draco gave him his wine and sat next to him. They drank a bottle of wine, and then Draco opened another one. And then another one. And it was Thanksgiving. And Lord of the Rings was still on TV, playing in the background. It was the extended version they decided to show on TV. Draco loved it.

Draco's head was spinning now, he was drunk. He rested his head back on the couch, and his eyes were closing, but before he fully fell asleep, he turned his head and whispered.

"Hey, who am I then?"

"Huh?"

"Who am I... in their world? Who-Who am I?"

Potter took a sip of his wine, his eyes closing too, and he dipped his head back on the couch. Draco kept on looking, at the dip of his nose, looking broken, and repaired. The way his jaw was loose, with the scruff shadowing it. Draco knew how sharp his jawline looked. His hair was messier now when he was drunk and loose. Draco didn't understand why he was noticing all these things about Potter, but he was. He'd overanalyze it later. Right now, he was waiting for an answer.

Potter licked his lips, a couple of times. And Draco stared as if hypnotized. Yeah, he was drunk.

“Legolas.”

“Legolas?”

“Yes,” Potter said, closing his eyes, smiling softly. “It’s the blond hair.”

Draco let out a soft laugh. Kristy finally came out of her hiding spot and purred at him. She turned and turned on his lap before she finally settled down on his lap. Her fur was soft to the touch.

Potter continued, his voice a mumble now, Draco had to strain to hear him. “It’s the blond hair. It’s long and,” he wiggled his fingers around, and mumbled as he fell asleep. “…wavy.”

“Long and wavy?” Draco said, with a laugh. Potter hummed and then he fell asleep.

Draco stayed awake for a bit more. His thoughts running fast, but sluggish. He couldn’t think straight.

Hah. Straight.

That was a funny thought.

And then he fell asleep.

* * *

Grabbing coffee in the morning with Potter was a surreal experience. He had a Muggle bank card on him, and he ordered Muggle coffee as if he’d been doing it all of his life. He was charming and smiling at the baristas by the counter. He talked to them. As if he’d been doing this all of his life. What was surreal also was the fact that _his_ baristas acted as if they were together. They were giving Draco these looks, and one of them went as far as to give him a thumbs up and the other winked at him.

Draco frowned at them and then gave them a look to shut them up, but of course, they didn’t hear his silent warning.

“Name?”

“Harry,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Okay. Next, please.”

As Potter made his way to the end of the bar to wait for his order, the barista gave him this big smile and whispered, excitedly, “ _Oh my God!_ Score!!”

“Shut _up_ ,” Draco hissed at her. “I’m… We’re _not_. I’m straight, dumbo.”

“Sure you are,” she grinned at him. “Same order?”

“Please,” he forced out the words through clenched teeth, but she kept smiling at him. Draco rolled his eyes and then realized he couldn’t stay mad at her. She was the best out of them. He paid for his breakfast and walked to where Potter was standing, waiting. He had his hands in his jacket’s pocket, a grim look on his face.

“What’s up?” Draco asked.

Potter looked at him, his eyes blinking sleepily. “I’m not a morning person.”

Draco frowned at him, and then looked at the baristas, and then back at him. “But… you just looked so cheerful just now?”

“Other people shouldn’t suffer with me, just because I don’t like being awake,” just as he said it, his coffee and sandwich materialized in front of him. “Thank you,” Potter said as he grabbed it.

Draco’s was next, and they both walked to one of the empty tables. They sat down, and Draco quickly took off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair. Potter, however, was drinking his coffee as if he was a dying man. Draco stared at him for a full minute, before Potter placed the cup down on the table and looked up at Draco with his big, green eyes. Draco raised an eyebrow in question, and Potter shrugged.

“One of the many things I enjoy about Muggles is their coffee.”

“Weren’t you raised in a Muggle household?”

Potter seemed to tense up at the question, his relaxed demeanor changing. A minute ago, another man was sitting in front of him, but now? Now there was this man that he hadn’t seen since the war. The man in front of him had seen what life can throw at you, and he faced it ready, with his wand up in the air, hard lines and hard edges. Something has happened to this man, to this boy, when he lived as a Muggle until the age of 11. Something happened to him. And Draco had no authority to ask him details.

They weren’t friends.

So he changed the subject.

“How long are you planning on staying?” Draco said. “Not that I get a say on where you can live or not. It’s just. I want to go out and hang out with friends, without feeling like I have a bodyguard following me all over the place.”

That seemed to relax Potter enough to start eating. “Well, as long as it takes, and as long as the Ministry says the coast is clear.”

“Huh,” Draco exhaled.

They sat in silence. The only sound was their movement, as they ate and sipped on their coffees. When they were done, they stood up and walked out of the café, together. The barista wished them a good day, and Potter’s back was turned as she gave Draco another wink. Draco ignored her.

“So,” Potter sighed. “Now what?”

“Well, I usually go to the office to work, or central park. But...” he shrugged and looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, even if there were rays of sunshine, trying to break through them. “I need to buy some more cat food, and then I’m going to go back home and work from home.”

“Okay,” Potter replied. And he just stared at Draco.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Potter said nodding and shrugging, his hands in his jacket. “Lead the way.”

“You want to come with me to a pet store to buy cat food for Kristy?”

“Hey, if a cat that was kept and raised by you, and still has some sort of feelings towards the person you most hate, I’ll buy all the damn cat food I can get my hands on.”

It was at the tip of his tongue to say he didn’t hate him, just disliked him on a sigh, but he just pursed his lips shut and lead the way to the closest pet store. Potter right beside him, keeping up the pace.

He got what he needed, and Potter got a cat wand to play with Kristy. Draco stared at his profile as he made the purchase, not knowing what to say. “Okay, let’s go,” Potter said and he moved to walk, but Draco was still staring at him. “What?”

“Did you just buy a toy for Kristy?”

“Yes?” he replied while looking up at Draco.

Draco noticed that some things didn’t change, that Potter was still shorter than him, and he had to look down to stare at Potter. He didn’t know why he noticed this, but he did. He needed to think about all of the things he was noticing lately about Potter and come to an understanding as to _why_ he was noticing these things.

They were in the elevator, taking it up to Draco’s apartment when Potter said, “Maybe we should hang out at my place.”

Draco looked at him from the corner of his eyes. Potter waited for him to say something, and when he didn’t, he continued, “I mean, if you don’t have a lot of work to do, you can come over. I have some beer.”

“Thank you for the invite, but I need to work.”

“Okay.” And that was that. Potter dropped off the toy with Draco by his doorstep, and then he left. Draco stared after him for only a second, before he opened the door to his apartment and went inside.

* * *

Draco was back in the office that Monday, working on the business deals that were backed up to the brim during the weekend. As much as Draco had tried to take care of it, they still had a lot of things to take care of. So he only had breakfast and didn’t have time to order lunch in. His employees were probably eating without him, which was fine, but he was starting to get a headache and a bit tired.

But he had a little bit more to go before he could stop. An hour later, there was a knock on his door. He ignored it at first, typing on his computer and looking at the files on his desk. If he could move things around, it should look fine… Another knock came, and he mumbled, “Yeah.” Loud enough for the other person to hear and come in. It was probably Stewart wanting these papers back. But it wasn’t.

“Hey,” Draco’s head snapped up and his eyes focused on Potter.

“Uhh… Hi?” Draco said questioningly. “What are you doing here?”

“Brought you lunch,” Potter stepped into his office and produced him with a take out from the deli across the street.

“Why?”

“Because I reckoned you’d be busy today and you wouldn’t eat.”

Draco’s heart started to hammer away in his chest. All of the weekend he spent it away from Potter. Away from him coming to his door, knocking, and asking to hang out. Always rejecting him the minute he opened the door. Not even a coffee was shared between them for two days. Because for two days Draco spent obsessing over the fact that Potter was being super friendly to him. Checking up on him, asking him over, talking as if they had always been friends… And to top it all off, Draco had been noticing Potter. In a way, he hasn’t since they were in school. Back then, they were attuned to one another. One showed up the other one knew he was there. One moved, the other moved with him. It was like a well-tuned dance they kept playing around one another. And he didn’t know where one started and the other ended.

He was straight. He had never been with another guy before. But the way he had started to notice Potter, was the same way he would notice women.

The thought terrified him. And yet…

“What are you doing?” Draco asked, frowning at Potter, who sat down on the chair, by the desk.

“Well, I brought enough to share.”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t eaten either?” Potter replied, tilting his head to the side. “Besides, I hate eating alone. It gets lonely.”

“I always eat alone,” Draco said.

“No, you don’t,” Potter said, getting out the take out plates and passing Draco his portion. “Not always anyway.” When Draco stared at him in confusion, Potter replied. “Kristy.”

“Oh! Oh. Okay,” Draco nodded. He opened his container and started to eat. “Thank you.”

They were quiet for the most part. Once Draco finished eating, he went back to work. He didn’t notice when Potter cleaned up after them and didn’t notice when he left the office. But as it started to get darker outside and his employees started to come in and let him know they were done for the day, that’s when Draco stopped working. He sat back on his chair and closed his eyes, his head thrumming with exhaustion. He was wearing black slacks with a white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up. He had undone some of the buttons on his neck as he realized that it wasn’t going to be an easy day.

But now when they were done with the day, he started to fix his shirt, and everything else so he could leave. He grabbed his laptop with him to work from home, and before he left he put on his coat, buttoning up as he left the building. It was windy outside, bitingly cold. And he knew it was only going to get worse in a week.

As he stepped on the curb and started his walk back home, he saw Potter sitting on one of the benches by his office. Draco halted to a stop and stared at Potter. He had a book open in his lap, and he looked relaxed. His hair was a mess, and _when was it ever not messy?_ Draco thought to himself. He approached the man and as he got closer, Potter looked up and Draco’s heart skipped another beat.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” Potter replied as he stood up. “New orders from the Ministry.”

“Why?”

“They think the, uh, extremists are a lot closer than we think they are. So now, they want me to keep a closer eye on you.”

“Joy,” Draco said sarcastically, but he was feeling anxious. He was thankful for Potter for being there, in his space and his life, but this whole thing was getting ridiculously out of hand.

“I know, but hey. Better be safe than sorry, right?”

Draco gave him a look; Potter just grinned back at him.

“Does it get colder?” Potter asked once they started walking again.

“Yeah,” Draco said, huffing. “It will get worse than this.”

“Oof,” Potter replied, as they crossed the street and continued walking down the street. When they were a block away from their building, Draco remembered.

“Damn it,” he said.

“What?” Potter asked, looking at him first, and then around them.

“Nothing, I just. I agreed to have a drink with my friends tonight.”

“Oh,” Potter was frowning down at the ground.

“I’ll just have to cancel.”

“No, what? No. Don’t cancel.”

“Well, I can’t _go_ , can I?”

“Yes, you can. And you will.”

“I don’t want to go there with you, though,” Draco said, sounding blunt. Maybe his confusing feelings were getting the best of him.

Something passed over Potter’s face that made Draco feel victorious, but at the same time, guilty. “No. Of course not. I won’t be around. They won’t know I’m there with you.”

“What do you mean?” They were in the elevator now, taking it up to Draco’s place.

“I’ll come with you, but I’ll be on the other side of the bar, or pub, or whatever.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Draco opened the door to his place, and Potter walked in behind him, shutting the door after him. “ _I’ll_ know you are there.”

“What, you feel self-conscious about me suddenly, or what?” Potter was joking, but part of the problem was that. What if Draco wanted to meet or talk up some girl at the bar? He knew Potter was there. Every drink he’d drink Potter was going to be there. Every joke he’d make, every move he’d make, everything… Potter on the side. Staring.

“I’m just worried you’re gonna throw me off my game,” Draco said, voice heavy with sarcasm.

Potter rolled his eyes and said. “Don’t worry. You won’t even know I’m there.”

But Draco _would_ know he was there.

* * *

His friends wanted to go to the bar called _The Cauldron_. Draco dragged his feet once he found out where his friends wanted to go because he knew the place was going to look ridiculous. But in the end, he caved. They took the subway there, and once they went inside, Draco tried hard to not roll his eyes.

There was an attempt to make it look like a magical place, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Everything was fake. The skulls and the animal carcasses were fake, the colorful lights on the bar, around the bar, coming from the cauldrons, everything was fake. The cauldrons were fake. There was nothing in them, but some water and some lights at the bottom of it all. Draco was impressed, but he also wanted to pull at his hair.

This was nothing like The Leaky Cauldron. Or anything magical. It was too colorful for his taste. But they were in the Muggle world, and Muggles had a different grasp on anything magical. They thought it was only colors and sparkles and rainbows and unicorns. But it was much darker than what they thought it was. And Draco couldn’t say or complain about it to anyone, but one person.

Draco looked around. His friends piled around a table, and chatted excitedly, looking around at the designs on the walls and the ceiling. They didn’t know any better, so Draco didn’t say anything. That would only raise more questions and would complicate things more. He still searched around to find the man he was looking for, but he couldn’t see him.

Shrugging, he sat down by the table and they all started ordering things from the menu. They’d always start with shots, and then whatever came next, came next. Draco was in a quiet mood, so he sat back and looked around at his new Muggle friends.

Jessica was one of the first people he befriended. She was married to Scott who was sitting next to her. They had been generous to give Draco their guidance into adulthood. Although, Draco only needed to learn how to be a Muggle. But they didn’t know that about Draco. And then there were Kevin and Rebecca. Best friends since forever, as they like to put it. Close friends of Jessica and Scott, and now they were friends with Draco too. They never asked him about his past or where he’d come from. They just asked for a name, gave him a weird look when he said it, and Draco explained it as a _“my mom was into astrology and Greek culture a lot, back in the day.”_ And so they accepted that answer and never questioned it again.

They talked about the usual stuff; how they had to take care of the bills, the newest TV shows, and movies. Travel plans for next year, what they planned on doing for Christmas. And Draco was getting tipsy. It was his turn to get to the bar for their drinks, so he stood up and made his way to the bar. He leaned against it and waited for the bartender to notice him. Some people were sitting by the bar, but Draco’s eyes caught the familiar hair out of all of them.

Draco made his way to the darkest corner of the bar, where Potter was sitting at, nursing a plain whiskey. “I never thought you’d be a whiskey kinda guy.”

Potter looked up at him and gave him a small twitch of a smile. Huh… “I can’t drink. I’m at work.”

“You’re working?”

“Yes,” Potter replied and stared at him.

Draco looked back, feeling confused. Potter waited for a moment and continued to stare at him. And then it clicked, “Oh!”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you can come to join us,” Draco said, feeling uncomfortable and shrugging at the same time.

“Maybe next time,” Potter said, nodding.

“Okay.”

Draco got their drinks and walked back to the table. “Who was that?”

“Neighbor,” Draco said, sitting down.

“Why didn’t you tell him to come and join us?” Rebecca asked, looking at Potter up and down.

“He didn’t want to. Besides, he was leaving.”

“Have you noticed the-“ Jessica asked Rebecca.

“Eyes? Yeah,” she replied, and they both continued to stare at Potter, who was ignoring them.

Draco looked at Potter, from afar, and tried to see what they were seeing, but he just couldn’t. For him, Potter was an average looking man. Yes, he had an attraction to him that women liked, but not for Draco. He was still that annoying, famous git from Hogwarts who was his nemesis. So he just rolled his eyes at them and ignored them.

A few hours later, Draco was tipsy enough to get home himself, but not enough to take the subway. He had to hail a cab. He wished his friends a good night and left the bar. It was drizzling outside and as he made his way to the end of the street where most cabs where waiting, something felt different. At first, he ignored it, thinking that it was just him being drunk. But as he walked closer to the cab by the curve, the street lights started to diminish. He let out a breath through his mouth; the breath fogging up in front of him.

He stopped. It was getting colder by the minute, and not the kind of cold NY was prone to get. No. This was way worse than that. It was sipping to his core, into his bones. It was freezing. He shook from head to toe from it. Draco knew this cold. He knew it.

“No…” he whispered, as he looked around himself. Not here. Not in the Muggle world. Not now when his friends were this close. Not now when survived that for a long time… Not now.

He heard the unmistakable sound of them breathing, so close to him. He knew there were more than two of them. In the distance he could hear someone running, the pit-pat of their feet hitting the wet ground unmistakable, but he ignored it.

Draco was frozen on his spot, his eyes fixed on the three dark figures making their way to him. They were gliding to him, their cloaks lose and not touching the ground. He took a step back, and another one. His eyes transfixed on them, wide in terror. He didn’t have a wand; he couldn’t conjure a _Patronus_. He was going to die.

“Draco!” he heard from afar, there was a whooshing sound in his ears. Was it his mother screaming? “ _Draco!_ ” No. That was a man’s voice.

He gasped as the dementor approached him and started to suck on him. His eyes widened in fear and cold and he was truly frozen now. He couldn’t move a muscle, too terrified to do anything but look into the mouth as he sucked and sucked. And then he was wrenched away from the thing.

Potter, in all of his heroic glory, was standing in front of him, with his wand out and a burst of white light at the tip. A beautiful, enormous stag burst from the light and charged against the dementors. It was so powerful that Draco had to close his eyes shut until it was over.

He blinked his eyes open just as the _Patronus_ diminished and moved back to Potter’s wand. Potter who was in front of him, touching his face and looking at him. With his big green eyes, worrying features, touching his cheek. He was saying something, but Draco couldn’t hear him. He was talking too fast. He seemed urgent.

“Draco, are you okay? Dra-“

“Faint,” Draco whispered. “I’m gonna faint.”

“No, don’t. Dr-“

And then he did just that.

* * *

Draco felt groggy when he opened his eyes. But when he did, he wasn’t in his apartment. This was a place he’d never been before but felt familiar too. He slowly sat up, the blanket that was draped over him falling off of him. He rubbed at his eye and looked around. Everything was fuzzy around the edges. He groaned and moved his legs down. He was on a couch. The apartment was smaller than his. It was a studio apartment. He was in the living room area, there were a couch and 2 armchairs, a coffee table. A TV mounted on the wall. There was a small kitchen, and on the other side of the studio was a bed. Unmade bed, to be more specific. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and well, now that Draco could see more clearly, the place was a mess. Everything was out of place. The main issue was that the clothing was every wear. Draco didn’t know if he cared enough to be disgusted or not.

Draco could hear Potter talking on the phone. Very loudly. Yelling would be a better description of what he was doing. Draco wasn’t paying attention to the words that were coming out of his mouth though. He was staring at the way Potter’s T-shirt was stretched over his back, and the way it moved with his muscles. He was staring at the way Potter’s hand kept massaging the back of his neck and then running it over and over through his hair.

And then he turned and Draco could see his eyes. They were wide and green-green. And his jawline was clenched and he looked _mad._ Not angry. Not pissed off. He was mad. This wasn’t anything Draco had seen. He had seen this man determined, and annoyed, and angry. But not mad. Whoever was at the end of the other line was getting an earful from Potter.

“-I don’t care what you have to say about this. I need a full report as to why those goddamn _dementors_ were in New York. IN FUCKING _AMERICA_!” he paused, breathing heavily. “Yeah well. Why don’t you run along and tell your _boss_ that he just landed himself on Harry Potter’s shit-list? How about that?”

And then he ended the call and dropped the phone on the table. He sighed and covered his face with his hands, his shoulders sagging. He looked tired and stressed out. Draco felt a flicker of concern run through him, and he also felt something else; gratitude.

Gratitude towards this man, who probably left everything behind in Wizarding World and came here to babysit Draco. Because it seemed like, Draco couldn’t protect himself from what their World had in store for him.

“Hey,” Potter had noticed him, and now he was making his way to the couch. “You okay?”

He sat on the coffee table, in front of him, and gave him a chocolate bar. Draco looked down at the offered treat and looked back up at Potter. “It’ll help,” he said. “That’s what Remus told us to do. And it, surprisingly, does help.”

“Help with what?” Draco asked, taking the chocolate and unwrapping it.

“A dementor attack,” Potter replied. He leaned over his knees and stared at Draco’s hands. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I could sleep,” Draco replied, honestly. “I just feel weak, though. And, uh, my body feels cold.”

“Yeah, not a pleasant feeling is it?” Potter said, still not looking at him. And then Draco remembered. When they were in 3rd year and Potter got attacked by a dementor, Draco was making fun of him, because he found out that Potter had fainted. Back then he was ignorant of the after-effects of the dementor’s attack. But now he knew. It was awful.

“No,” Draco whispered, lowering the chocolate. Not feeling like eating it anymore. “I guess it’s not.”

“Yeah,” Potter replied. He cleared his throat and then frowned. “Listen, I wanted to apologize.”

“Huh?” Draco stared at Potter. “Apologize?”

“Yes. For not being closer to you, when you got attacked.”

“To be fair, I left without telling you I left.”

“Yes, but I needed to be more cautious.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I didn’t. That’s the point. I needed to be better at this and more focused.”

“And you were. You got there on time.”

“You _fainted_ ,” Potter said, and then he looked up. This was the first time he was staring right at Draco; Draco held back a light shiver. His eyes were intense. “You fainted. And I wasn’t there before it happened. I had to be there even before they could get a whiff of you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You call this fine?” Potter’s voice was getting louder.

“Yes. I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.”

“You could’ve died! On my watch!” Potter snapped at him.

“So what? Not like you care!”

They both fell silent. Potter looking at him with his eyes and hair and lips pursed into a tight line. His chest heaving as if he just ran the marathon and he had to take a breather. Whereas Draco felt like his whole body was going to snap like a violin’s string would.

Slowly, Potter’s stance started to relax, his face going soft, his lips relaxing, his eyes clearing. “I wouldn’t be here, yelling at you about this, if I didn’t care.” Draco didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything he could say to make them both feel better.

Potter stood up and went to the kitchen, where he grabbed two bottles of beer, uncapped them and came back to Draco. “And I sure as all hell would care if you were to fucking die. Not on my fucking watch. I didn’t kill you all those years at Hogwarts, and I’m not planning on letting you die so soon after either,” he said, sounding angry, but at the same time; tired. “You might not care if you were to die. But I do.”

Draco had nothing to say. So he just sipped on his beer.

* * *

The first snow of the season landed a week before Christmas, on a Sunday. Draco woke up feeling rested but wanting to sleep a bit more. But there was something that woke him up. It wasn’t Kristy, who was sleeping on his back, no. She learned that she wasn’t allowed to wake him up. It was a knock on his door, insistent and urgent. Draco groaned into his pillow and then he was half-asleep when he heard the knock again.

Sighing in frustration, Draco poked Kristy off his back and then he got up from the bed. He was wearing only his pajama pants, because his apartment was that hot during the night, and not thinking about it much, he opened the door. His hair was a mess, and he had wrinkles over his cheek from sleep. But if someone was knocking on his door like a madman at this hour, whatever the hour was at the time, then they should be expectant to see him half-dressed and looking like a sleep-deprived hermit.

It was Potter. He was wearing outside clothes already, but they looked official, and not Muggle like at all. That woke him up instantly. “What are you doing here?” When Potter didn’t reply to him but shoved inside, Draco knew right away that something had happened. “What is it?” he asked, closing the door after him. Kristy came into the living room, purring at Potter, who ignored the cat. He never ignored the cat before. Something was up. “What’s wrong?”

“When was the last time you heard from your parents?”

“Uh…” Draco wracked his brain, trying to remember. He was still in London when he last saw them. They were supposed to be in Azkaban, as far as he knew. He didn’t know how long his mother was going to be in there for, but his father was on a life sentence until they’d reevaluate his prison time and decide the better option and outcome of his imprisonment. Draco crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Potter with a frown on his forehead. “I saw them about 10 years ago. They were both being sent off to Azkaban. Why?”

“Oh, God,” Potter muttered, running a distressed hand through his hair. Okay. Okay.” He seemed agitated. He unzipped his jacket and placed his hands on his waist.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked again, taking another step back.

“I’m sorry,” Potter said. “I was back at the Ministry in the last couple of days.”

“I figured. You weren’t all up in my business.” Draco wasn’t going to mention how much lonelier it seemed around here without Potter getting on his nerves.

“There was something that I needed to take care of,” Potter continued. “I don’t know how else to tell you this. But, your parents were found dead Thursday morning.”

“What.”

“I’m sorry.”

Draco’s mind was blank. He knew he had to show some sort of emotion, as if he was sad, that they were dead, but… he found out that he wasn’t. “Were they buried?”

“The Ministry took care of it.”

“Okay,” Draco replied with a nod. “Okay.”

“I’m-“

“Was it you?” Draco asked, coldly.

“What? No.”

“Then stop saying you’re sorry.”

“But-“

“I understand. I get it,” Draco said, nodding again. “But, it wasn’t your fault. If it were, I’d accept your sorry.”

“Dr-“

“Do you want coffee?” Draco asked, changing the subject.

“No,” Potter replied, frowning. Concern visible in those green-green eyes. “I don’t want coffee.”

“Okay. I’d like it if you left. I want to sleep.”

Potter seemed to hesitate and then he walked to the door. Before he left, he turned to look at Draco, standing there, looking down at the carpet. Draco’s features were blank. He didn’t want to give any reason for Potter to stay any longer than he had to. It seemed as if he wanted to say something, but thought better of it, and then left the apartment, shutting the door after him with a soft click.

Draco stood there for some time. He didn’t know how long he stood there before the first tear came, and then the other, and then he found himself on the floor, putting a hand over his mouth to stop his screaming and his sobbing. His whole body shaking and his eyes were squeezed shut, and he was holding back the sounds that wanted to leave his chest, but he couldn’t allow himself. He just couldn’t let it go.

Kristy was there, a foot away from him, meowing at him, looking concerned and not knowing what to do with him. She never saw him like this, never thought he would be like this, but… here he was.

He heard the front door open and close, and then there was a hand on his body, pulling and pushing until his face was rested on a solid chest and the sandalwood smell wafted over the body and that’s when he let himself go. A sob wrenched out of his body and into the chest in front of him, and then he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing. He couldn’t breathe.

His father was dead.

His mother was dead.

His poor mother who didn’t want anything with this life, who was soft, and loving, and caring, and motherly… “Oh God,” Draco let out a pathetic sound. “Mom… Oh, God…”

“I’m so sorry,” Potter’s voice whispered into his hair. “I’m _so_ sorry, Draco.”

And he knew now that Potter was passed from calling him _Malfoy._ He was _Draco_ now. And maybe hearing that only made Draco cry even harder. He didn’t know why, but it did. And Potter was there to comfort him through the heartache.

 _Harry_ was here to comfort him through the heartache…

* * *

It was Christmas morning and Draco sent a complimentary e-mail to his employees. Wishing them a Merry Christmas and letting them enjoy an extra day off from work. He closed the tab once he was done with the e-mail. His friends had all checked in on him already, wishing him Happy Holidays and asking if he was going to hang out with any of them, and inviting to parties, but Draco respectfully declined the invites. He was in no mood to be a good friend, and he didn’t want to bring anyone’s mood down by being there. So he told them he already had plans with some relatives. They didn’t buy it, of course. Because as far as they were concerned, Draco didn’t have anyone here. So he had to stretch out the lie and tell them that he was going to travel back to Europe, no specific place, to spend it with his relatives. In the end, they all caved and wished him a good time.

In all reality, he was planning on getting drunk on red wine, and then fall asleep on the couch while he watched some program on TV. They usually had some cheesy Hallmark, Christmas related movies up by this time of the day, but he didn’t feel like watching anything like that. In the end, he found a channel where they had an all-day marathon of FRIENDS and so he left it on there.

He grabbed some food for Kristy, and she started munching on it as he grabbed some leftover lunch from yesterday. He heated it in the microwave. As he was waiting for it to be done when his eyes fell on the spot where he had crumbled down and cried like a little wuss on Potter.

On Potter. Out of everyone, he could have a breakdown in front of it had to be Potter. He remembered how tight he held onto him, and he remembered the way Potter had clutched onto him as he sobbed and slobbered all over Potter’s fancy-looking work-clothes. He remembered as Potter helped him up and walked him to the couch, and draped a blanket over him and let him sleep. But then when he woke up Potter was nowhere in sight, but there was a glass of cold water waiting for him with Tylenol on the side. Draco’s eyes had gone blurry with tears again, knowing that Potter did care for him.

The microwave started to beep and Draco pulled out his food and walked to the couch, where he sat down and started to eat his food. Once he was done with it, he put the plate in the sink and rummaged through his pantries to find some snacks. He got some chips out and popcorn, and then he went for his refrigerator where he found two bottles of red wine. He grabbed one and then grabbed a glass. He made the popcorn, made it just enough to feed 5 people, but who was there to judge him anyway?

Draco made himself comfortable on the couch and got his snacks spread out close to him. “Best Christmas ever, or what, Kristy?” Kristy, who was curled up in a ball at the end of the couch, ignored him.

He didn’t have a Christmas tree up this year. He knew his mother would frown at him in disapproval, but considering what had happened to him when it was time for him to get the tree up, his mother would have to get over it. He smiled as he remembered how excited she would get when it would be the holiday season. She would always go out of her way to be sure that the place was decorated to the fullest. Their trees were big and extravagant. And the Manor would smell like Christmas cookies. Draco didn’t know what magic she used for that, but it always felt warmer around that time of the year. And he always loved going back home…

Draco gulped down a full glass of wine quickly and then got himself another glass. He was halfway through it, and his popcorn didn’t seem like it was going to end any time soon when there was a knock on the door. He groaned, and rested his head back on the couch, knowing who it was at the other side of the door. It was always that one person who knew how to come to Draco’s rescue. It was as if he knew that Draco needed him to be there by his side. But Draco _didn’t_ want him around.

One time of the year when he wanted to spend it alone and get drunk while doing so, Potter was there. He knocked again. Draco, feeling reluctant and slightly dragging his feet, got up from the couch and walked to the door. He opened it and stared at the man outside his door. He looked fucking ridiculous.

He was wearing sweatpants and a sweater, but they weren’t normal solid colored ones. No. The idiot had full-on _Christmas_ sweatpants and a sweater. They were green and red and white. The pants were covered in reindeers. His sweater had Rudolph the reindeer at the front; his nose was a pom-pom. Draco looked down, and he choked. The man was wearing elf slippers.

Potter looked ridiculous.

“Really?”

“What? It’s Christmas!” Potter said as if that answered every question in the world. It was that easy with Potter. He never lied, he always spoke the truth, and whenever he said something it was a statement. “And I also reckoned that you wouldn’t want to be alone today.” He was wrong there, but Draco was reevaluating as to how he wanted to spend the day. “And I also reckoned that if I looked terrible and ridiculous, you’d be more likely to allow me in.”

He was correct. If Potter were to come in with casual clothing, Draco was going to turn him away, but because he looked so ridiculous, he wanted him to stay.

“You look ghastly,” Draco said. “Come on in.”

“Thank you!” Potter said. “It’s your Christmas present.”

Draco rolled his eyes and snorted, but inside his heart was hammering away. “Sure. And the couch that is filled with mountains of snacks… isn’t yours. No.”

“Ha-ha, nice one,” Potter took off his elf slippers and cradled Kristy up into his arms. He then started to sweet talk to her as he got comfortable on the couch. That is; he got his legs up on the couch, under his bum and continued to coo at Kristy. “What?” he asked as he noticed that Draco was still staring at him. “I’m off duty.”

“You get a vacation-mission and a day off?” Draco grabbed a wine glass for Potter and went back to the couch.

“I know. I was surprised too. But I got the e-mail last night, for which I’m grateful for.”

“How can you get e-mails from the Ministry?”

“They managed to work Muggle machinery into the mountains of protective spells. It’s still slow, but it gets the job done.”

“And the cell phone calls?” he poured Potter a hefty glass of wine.

“Oh, thanks. Uh well, I don’t know the technicalities, but they can get a call from the outside world. As in the Muggle world.”

“Huh,” Draco said as he dug himself back into the blanket fort he had going on before. “That’s great.”

“It is,” Potter agreed. Before he took a sip of his wine he held it up. “Happy Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Draco said and clinked their glasses together.

“So, what are we watching?”

“For now FRIENDS is on. After that, I’m not sure.”

“Sound like a plan.”

“Hardly.”

Potter just grinned at him, and this was probably the first, and only time, Potter had given him a real smile. Before that, they were smirks, a quirk of a lip, and glares in his direction. He looked different, somehow. He looked calmer and just, different when he smiled.

Draco had always questioned his sexuality before, but he never acted on them. He knew he liked women, but he also knew that he would be okay if he were to find another man attractive. Growing up in the household that he grew up his father had been strict about the family blood. But now that he was dead, and Draco had already given up on the fact that he wasn’t going to continue the family name, he had more choices. Live in a Muggle world, without using magic, which was manageable. But what he didn’t count on was Potter showing up in his life, and shifting it upside down. Even though he kept his distance, Draco still felt Potter’s presence.

It had always been greater than life itself.

He toyed with the idea, of being with a man… specifically with Potter. Just as fast the thought came to him, it went right out again. This was stupid. Potter would never. As long as Draco could remember, Potter had always fawned over the girls at school. Even though none of them led him anywhere, aside from Ginny Weasley. He was as straight as they’d come.

Potter wasn’t someone who he had to go on this journey with. And so he put a cap on that very fast. Right there and then. That was it. No more Potter might-be his this and that. Nope.

And yet, he kept staring at Potter. The way he laughed now, openly, his head back, his neck stretched. His scruff looking all scruffy and soft looking. And his hair all ruffled and ready to get more ruffled, with his fingers running through them constantly. His glasses round and his eyes green-green. He wasn’t drunk enough to tell him how green-green his eyes were. So he just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the show.

* * *

“They were on a break!”

“No, they weren’t.”

“Yes. They were!”

“What? How would you know wh-“

“They were on a break.”

“That’s bullshit. And you know it.”

“You’re just saying it because you’re on Ross’ side.”

“I hate Ross.”

“And sooo-“

“No. Listen. I hate the guy. He’s a dick-“

“Hell yeah, he is!”

“-But they were on a break. I’m just saying.”

“Ugh! You’re impossible.”

Snort.

“So are you!”

* * *

“Do they get back together?” Potter asked him, his voice slurring, and his eyes unfocused.

“They sort of do, but not really? It’s complicated to explain. But it’s mostly on and off kinda thing.”

“Hmm…” Potter hummed and then chuckled at Chandler’s hilariousness.

Draco was fucked.

******

* * *

It was getting dark out, and the boys were laying down on the floor, with the lights off, and only the lights from the outside illuminated in the apartment, while the TV was playing in the background. Draco had no idea what they were talking about, but he was beyond tipsy by this point.

“You know I’ve been living in New York for years now, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I’ve never gone to see the ball drop.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Draco said. “I’m usually asleep by the time midnight comes in.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yes! Why is it so hard to believe?”

He felt Potter shrug on his side, and Draco turned to look at him. “Well, I always saw you with Parkinson draped all over you, so I _assumed_ you’d be, you know… and then there was Astoria. Greengrass? I thought you’d be; you know…”

He was stammering and his cheeks were getting even redder. He was tipsy as well, and his cheeks were rosy, but now they were red. Draco stared at him in amusement, his lips pulling up into a smirk. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m just saying that you were always with someone in school, and I thought you’d be settled already,” Potter said, his voice firm. Slurring from the drink, but firm.

Draco laughed and shook his head. “No. I’m not-I’m not the marrying type.”

“Huh,” Potter exhaled. He turned his head to look at Draco, and then back at the ceiling. “I thought you’d be. Since you are a Malfoy.”

Draco sighed and looked at the ceiling too. “Yeah. But now, I don’t have any obligations anymore, do I?”

“I guess not,” Potter whispered. His voice sounded closer somehow. Maybe they had moved, but Draco could be unsure.

The TV stayed on as they both drifted off to sleep, right there on the floor.

It was probably hours later when Draco woke up from a neck cramp. He only moved enough to grab a pillow from the couch and to put it under his head. The wine bottles clanked together and the bags of chips crinkled, making a noise enough to wake Potter up. “Sorry,” Draco whispered. “Cramp. Neck.”

“’s okay,” Potter whispered and cradled his arms under his head for leverage.

Draco went back to lay down with the pillow under his head, and before he drifted off to sleep, he felt Potter move again, and then there was a heaviness on his chest. He opened his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest, and watched as Potter positioned himself comfortably on top Draco. His hair tickling Draco’s jaw, his face turned into his neck, his breath fanning over Draco’s neck.

Draco lay there, frozen, barely breathing. His chest rising and falling, very slowly, with each intake and outtake. But he didn’t move. He was content. Potter was content on him. Draco knew he had to move his arm out of Potter soon before it would get cramped, but he didn’t want to move yet. He had to think of a way to do it to not alert Potter that he was doing something on purpose.

It took him a couple of minutes to come up with something, and soon because he was starting to drift back to sleep. So in the end, he acted as if he was repositioning himself, and not repositioning himself _around_ Potter. He turned to his side, which prompted his arm to drift up and out of Potter’s body. He then moved both of his arms and cuddled Potter close to him; who exhaled and nuzzled closer to him.

Draco’s heart was hammering in his chest, and he could barely breathe. He couldn’t believe this was happening, and at the same time, it felt surreal that it was. He never thought he was going to try anything with Potter. Just hours ago he told himself to not make any moves, but here he was. Cuddling Potter. And then he fell asleep.

It was probably around 7 am when he woke up for the second time. He woke up because Potter had moved. Draco kept his eyes shut and acted as if he didn’t know Potter was awake and sitting up straight. He didn’t know if Potter was looking at him, or what he was doing, and so he kept still and kept his breathing even. And then Potter got up and walked away. Draco stayed still until he heard the unmistakable sound of his bathroom door being opened and closed. A minute or so later, he heard the toilet flush and the running faucet. He heard Potter padding back to where Draco was and laid back down again. He thought that Potter would sleep far from him, but he almost jumped when he felt Potter lay back down next to him, his body realigning himself with Draco’s.

Potter felt tense, under Draco’s arm, and it seemed as if he was going back to sleep. So Draco slowly opened his eyes and found Potter watching him. His cheeks were red, and his lips looked pinker somehow. He didn’t have his glasses on, his eyes were sleepy, but alert. There was nothing that could give away as to what he was thinking about.

Draco curled his fingers into a fist, some of them holding onto some part of Potter’s sweater. He didn’t know how he knew it, maybe it was a feeling, but he knew when Potter looked down at his lips, they were going to kiss.

Potter looked back at his eyes, and then back at his lips, and then Potter raised his hand and moved it up to Draco’s cheek. He touched it with his fingertips, and then he leaned forward, unsure. Draco laid there frozen, waiting for Potter to take it if he wanted. If he was sure of it. But he didn’t. It was like he was waiting for Draco to do something. And so he did. He made a move to encourage him, but the slight movement that he made was prompt enough for Potter to move in close and press his lips over Draco’s.

He always read this in novels, and it was overhyped on TV when two great loves got together and it felt electrifying and there were tears, and rain, and heartbeats being aligned, and everything earth-shattering that could happen to a human body would happen to the two humans that were sharing the kiss. He always thought it was over the top nonsense. But as he felt Potter’s lips over his, as they opened tentatively to kiss him fully, Draco felt the electrifying feeling that accompanied that. He felt his lips warm up under the pressure, there was a press of numbness underneath his skin, and probably even under his skull. He didn’t know. All he knew that Potter’s lips were warm against his and he was moving in closer, urgently, but his lips never wavered in being soft and warm.

Draco moved his arm and placed his hand at the back of his back, his other hand lifting and resting over Potter’s cheek, and then gliding to the back of his head, to run it over his hair. Potter moved over him, resting his weight on his arm, while the other one moved down from his cheek, unto his neck, and then rested over at the base of his neck, over his chest. Their lips moved together, Draco opened his mouth, his lips catching with Potter’s as they continued to kiss. Potter’s breathing was going heavier, his lips moving more urgently by now. And Draco frowned into the kiss, trying to keep up with it, but Potter was turning desperate. And he realized that Potter was _terrified_ by the kiss. He knew a desperate kiss. He knew a terrified one.

Draco pulled back and when Potter tried to follow him, Draco stopped him by clutching at his neck. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

Potter was breathing hard and his eyes were squeezed shut. He looked like he was in pain. And Draco felt terrible. He felt horrible. He put that face on Potter. Even though Potter was the one that started the kiss, he looked like he was going to _die_. Draco moved away from Potter, his hands leaving Potter’s body and face. He sat up and leaned against the couch. He bent his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs.

Potter on his part was looking down at his hands, still laying on the floor. He couldn’t see Potter’s face, but he knew that Potter was feeling terrible about the whole thing. Draco’s jaw clenched, and he was hurting. He felt terrible. Inside, his heart was breaking, because he was the reason why Potter looked like that. And then he _begged_ the man to not push away from him. To not close off from him.

He looked so miserable there. Draco wanted to reach out and touch him and reassure him that it was okay. That this was his first time too. And they needed to talk and figure out where they’d go from here. But Potter sat up. He didn’t look at Draco as he stood up and got his slippers on. Draco stood up and he opened his mouth to say something, anything, but Potter just shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said, continuously shaking his head. “Just… _don’t._ I have to go.”

“But-“

“I have to go.”

And then he left. Leaving Draco standing in the living room, feeling small and broken.

* * *

When Draco gave his employees that extra day to stay home for the holidays, he never thought he was going to take it back. He sent an e-mail the next day, on Boxing Day, and asked them all to come back in to work in the next 2 hours. Some of them replied with affirmatives, but most of them informed him they were out of the country and couldn’t make it back so fast.

Draco was not a heartless man as he used to be. But today, he needed to vent and rage against someone and if those people were his employees, so he sent them all individual messages explaining how disappointed he was with them. It was mean and cruel, but he didn’t have the heart in him to feel guilty about it.

“He needs to get laid or something,” he heard them mutter to one another.

“Dude, he can hear you.”

“So what?” one of them replied. “Not like he’s gonna fire me for saying what everyone else is thinking here.”

“Speak for yourself,” that was Jane. “I’d much rather keep my job. Not every one of us has a rich wife to take care of ourselves.”

“What did you say?” he could hear one of them say, as the others laughed at what Jane said. And then they started talking louder between each other and Draco tuned them out.

He tried to put himself out there, though, didn’t he? And it backfired spontaneously. And that’s why they were all here, back to work.

He was such an idiot. Why was it that every time he tried to have something with the famous Harry Potter something always backfired? He remembered how he attempted to make friends with him at school, and it all prompted them to start hating on one another. And now, when they were both adults and put everything behind them, Draco went ahead and ruined any friendly attempts there was made between the two.

He shook his head and started to work on the latest project. And at first, he wasn’t paying attention to the outside noise, but as he took a break, he realized that it was quiet outside. Too quiet, even for the office when they’d work on their things. Frowning, and feeling alarmed, Draco stood up from his place and opened the door to see what was happening. He froze.

All of his employees that were inside where bound and gagged and placed against the far wall. They looked unharmed, but they all looked terrified. Jane was openly crying. Draco stared at them, and then he looked to the other side of the room where he could see 3 men, standing to the side with wands held on their sides. They were wearing Ministry clothing, similar to what Aurors used to wear, but he wasn’t sure which level they were.

“Mr. Malfoy,” one of them said. He seemed to be their leader, but Draco could be unsure. “If you could come with us, calmly.”

“No, thank you. I’m good right here.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

“What do you want?”

“You,” he said, as he took a step back, moving his wand back and forth between his hands.

“Why?”

“I didn’t agree with what the Ministry decided to do with you.”

“Hmm.”

“So you either come with me or…” he flicked his wand and James, one of his new employees, floated forward in front of him. “Will have to suffer.”

“They are innocent Muggles. You are not to touch them.”

“Says who?”

“Says the rules of the magic world, you dumbass.” His mind was racing. He didn’t know how the trace worked on him. And how Potter was going to know he was in danger. Maybe it was connected with Draco? Maybe them attempting to cast a spell at him would alert Potter into coming here to help them out.

His magic was rusty, Draco knew that. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to take care of three Ministry Aurors himself. He needed Potter’s help. But he didn’t know how to alert Potter of that. _Think Draco, think!_ “What are you planning on doing with him?”

“Want to find out?” he asked, and Draco took a small tentative step forward. He saw the man’s wand hand twitch.

“Not, no,” Draco said, shaking his head and taking another step. “Are you planning on killing them?”

The man snorted and shook his head. “No. If I do, I’m no better than the rest of ya, am I?”

“I never killed anyone, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Death Eaters,” he hissed at Draco. “You lot killed more than I could count on one hand!”

“You can count?” Draco asked, tilting his hand to the side.

That did it. The man flicked his wand, but Draco was faster, and he cast a protection spell around James. Wandlessly and without uttering a single word. James was shaking on the spot, he looked terrified. Draco couldn’t blame him.

“Go!” he yelled at him, and James stood up and stumbled out of the door. One of the men tried to go after James, but Draco flicked his other hand and he stumbled on his footing and face planted on the floor. Draco heard the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. A thrill ran through his body as he noticed that.

“Let them leave,” Draco said, moving in front of his employees. They were trying to unbind, but their attempts were futile.

“Why?”

“You can see I’m strong, and I can easily take you all down. Even without a wand.”

“You’d get locked up!”

“Better that than get what you have planned for me,” Draco hissed at them. And he could feel his powers coursing through him, ready to burst out. He flicked his hand behind him while holding the protective shield in front of him. His employees were free to go. He walked backward with them so he could extend the shield. So they’d be protected.

“Go! Run!” he yelled at them, and they did. They ran out of the building, just as Draco was distracted and his shield wavered, he got hit.

The force of it blasted him through the window and onto the street. He could feel cuts on his skin, and the impact of going to the ground hurt his bones. He groaned, and he got groggy. But he was thankful that he didn’t lose consciousness. He tried to stand up, but there was so much hurt he slipped a couple of times before he fully stood up. It took him some time to realize that they didn’t come after him right away. No. There was something much bigger happening a few feet away from him. Potter had shown up, in all his wonderful and heroic glory. Draco needs to stop thinking of him that way. It wasn’t helping him get over his stupid crush on the man. From the looks of it, the others were losing the fight against Potter, but at the same Potter looked like he was a spell away from crumbling. Draco wasn’t sure how long he had been down.

He slowly made his way to where Potter was. There was a whistling sound in his ears, and he couldn’t hear what was happening around him. And as he started walking, he was starting to get woozy. He couldn’t hear what spells they were using, but he’d recognize a green light even with his eyes closed.

The green light that was aimed at Potter. And everything turned red for Draco.

One moment he was walking the next he was running at them. Sparks and lights and spells flying out of him. He was screaming. He knew he was screaming because the hurt in his chest, the hurt in his throat was something he knew all too well.

He wasn’t going to lose Harry. Even though the man didn’t want anything with him, he wasn’t going to lose Harry.

The lights coming out of his hands were bright and powerful, and they all headed to the men that were hurting Harry. He didn’t care that he was killing them. He just wanted them gone. He could hear screaming and yelling around him, but he couldn’t concentrate on them. He didn’t know what they were saying, or who was talking.

He just knew he had to calm down enough to stop. But his whole body was alight with hatred and anger and so much hurt.

He couldn’t stop.

And then he was staring right into Harry’s eyes. They were big and filled with terror. “Draco. You need to stop. Please.”

“I. Can’t.” Draco said through clenched teeth. His eyes were getting blurry, but he could see Harry’s eyes. “They. Are. Hurting. You.”

“They are not. They’re dead, Draco. Gone.” Harry yelled at him. He was clutching at his cheeks, wanting him to look at him. “You have to let go, Draco. Please. _Please._ ”

Draco’s body was so tense, that he didn’t know if he could relax enough to stop the flow of magic. But Harry was standing in front of him, his body relaxed, seemingly unharmed. He was there, willingly touching him, begging him to stop. Wanting him to let go. And that’s exactly what he did. It went out with a bang. And when it did, he had a moment to stare around him and realize that damage he had caused. The men were down, but he could see Muggles, standing on the side, looking at him. They were all terrified of him. Horrified as to what he had done.

“Oh my God,” Draco whispered. His hands shaking from the force. “O-Oh my God.”

“Draco,” Harry called out his name. “Draco. Listen to me. It’s fine. Take deep breaths.”

“I h-haven’t… I haven’t used it. In so long.”

“I know. I understand. The impact of suppressed magic is powerful. I get it. _Please_ don’t panic. Please. Take a deep breath.”

“I-I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“It’s okay. Draco, I’m here. I’m fine.”

“They were –they were trying to kill you.”

“Who hasn’t _tried_ in the past, Draco?”

Draco didn’t answer. He heard people Apparating in the middle of a street. His breathing started to go shallow, as he watched wizards materialize, as if out of nowhere. His heart was beating fast and painful in his chest. He needed to get out of here. He didn’t want them to see him. He didn’t want them around. They were invading his world.

“Draco, look at me,” Draco stared at him. “Hold my hand. Let me take you out of here. Come on. Take my hand.”

Draco continued staring at Harry’s eyes, before he finally held on to Harry’s hand, tight, almost cutting off circulation. Harry looked down at their hands, hesitated for a moment before he squeezed Draco’s hand back. But he didn’t lookup. He didn’t look into Draco’s eyes. They looked up, but they rested at Draco’s neck. Draco looked at him, he looked uncomfortable. He looked as if he didn’t want to be here. He looked as if he didn’t want to be this close to him.

“Harry-“

“Don’t think about it,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Don’t say anything.”

Draco clenched his jaw and waited for the swirling of Apparition to suck him into the void.

* * *

It took Draco 3 months to get over Harry. There was nothing to get over this…thing, but Draco still took his time taking care of his broken heart. They weren’t anything. They didn’t have a thing. There wasn’t a thing to be over with. And yet, here he was.

When the attack happened, the Aurors came on to the scene and did damage control. They gathered every single one of the Muggles that saw what happened and used _Obliviate_ spell on them. His employees had been taken care of as well, and his office had been rebuilt again. His employees had been confused when he went back to work. They asked him questions, to which he gave clipped answers. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know anything.

Harry had just left him. To go back to his job because there wasn’t anything left for him to do here, in America. Where Draco had been. He didn’t care. He didn’t want Draco. He remembered that day.

“I have to go back to the Ministry. They need a full report as to what happened.”

“Okay,” Draco replied, nodding. “Well, good luck.” He stood up from his couch and walked to the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of water.

“Draco…” Draco ignored him. Or tried to. He still glanced at him when he repeated his name. He looked like he was in pain. “I have to leave.”

Draco nodded.

“I have to leave. I can’t stay here.”

“Yeah,” Draco said. “Well. Like I said. Good luck.”

And then he just left. He didn’t hear from Harry since then. He didn’t get a mail or an e-mail. Or a call. He could even be happy to see a goddamn owl. Kristy purred at him, as she laid down over his chest. It was raining outside and it was a Saturday night. His friends asked him to go out with them, but he was in no mood to see anyone. He was in a mood to see one person. And talk to that one person. Just to talk to him.

“I’m a mess,” Draco whispered to Kristy, who ignored him.

There was a knock on his door, and he sighed as he got up. Kristy glared at him for disturbing her peace. Draco walked to the door and opened it, only to find the most unexpected guest on his doorstep.

“Granger?” Draco asked, surprised. She had cut her bushy hair short, close to her head. She was wearing a spring coat with a scarf wrapped around her neck. She was carrying a messenger bag. She looked like an adult. And she looked completely different from the last time he had seen her.

“Good afternoon, Draco. Mind if I come in?” she sounded so grown up that it took Draco a moment before he took a step to the side and allowed her in.

Kristy was there to greet her right away, and Draco remembered that Granger was a cat person. She bent down to pet her on her head, and then she stood up. Draco closed the door after her and walked to the living room. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

“I’m here on the Ministry’s orders.”

Draco nodded. “Which are?”

“It’s not a long list. Unsurprising as to why they are doing this, but…” she dug into her bag and she got out a sheet of paper. “Basically what it’s saying is that you’re banned from the Wizarding World, and you are not allowed to come back to London ever again.”

“What?”

“They think you’re a danger to society.”

“I am a danger?”

“Well, they are going by what you’ve done here months ago, so…”

“And, what about-“

But she ignored him. “And your wand needs to be suspended from you.”

“What? No.” Draco tightened his arms around him. He remembered he didn’t need his wand anymore. Since he was living as a Muggle and he couldn’t even use his wand anymore, since it was broken. But she didn’t need to know that. Nobody knew that, and no one was ever going to find out.

“It’s not up for discussion, Mr. Malfoy,” Granger told him. Her voice was clipped and uptight. He always knew that Granger hated him, but seeing her be this way with him just reconfirmed it for him.

Draco clenched his jaw. “I can’t give you my wand, Granger.”

“It’s not up for disc-“

“Discussion. I know. What I’m saying is. I’m not using magic anymore. I haven’t used magic for years. Even when I traveled from Europe to here, I didn’t apparate. I took a plane. I live as a Muggle,” he waved his hands around him. “I don’t do magic anymore.”

“Until that day. In front of 40 Muggles.”

“I had no choice!” Draco snapped at her. “I had no other choice but to do it! They were killing him. They were using the killing curse at him!”

“I…” she wavered, frowning. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah,” Draco said. “The three of them took turns blasting the _Avada_ curse at him, and he managed to dodge all of them. He didn’t stand a chance. I _saved_ his life. I saved your precious best friend’s life. The hero that everyone loves and cherishes. And this is your repayment to me?”

It seemed as if Granger was hesitating for a moment, before she took a deep breath, and told him in a firm voice. “I understand. We can never thank you enough for what you’ve done to save a life. But these rules and citations are not going to be changed.”

“Fine,” Draco replied, nodding. The fight leaving his body just as fast as it came. “Alright.” He turned from Granger and walked to his bedroom, and then the walk-in, where he hid the wand. He took out the box and slammed his safe shut. He walked outside and gave the box to Granger, who was standing at the same spot as before.

“Thank you,” she said and she opened the box. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh, no.”

“You’ve come to collect the broken pieces of a wand,” Draco said, his voice cold. “As I said before, I don’t use magic anymore. I live as a Muggle. I don’t need it anymore.”

“I understand,” she replied, then she pocketed the wand in her bag. She took out another piece of paper and held it out to him. “You have to sign at the bottom. This confirms that I have collected your wand from you, and there were no forceful measurements required in getting the wand from the holder.”

Draco nodded and grabbed the quill she gave him from the bag. He signed his name at the bottom. “And this one here says that I told you… about your ban from the wizarding world.” He signed that as well. “Sign here as well. Full name, please.”

And then Draco was done. He was banned from something he hadn’t used for years; he hadn’t even thought of using it. In a way, he felt okay with it. But the other part of him, the aristocratic blood in him, was breaking down one by one.

She placed the papers back in her bag and straightened her coat. She moved to the front door and placed her hand over the knob. Before she left, she turned around and looked at him. “He’s miserable. You know? He told me what happened here. And I think he’s being an idiot for not coming here. I will tell him that you are, too.” Draco stared at her, and she elaborated. “I will tell him that you’re miserable, too.”

She left with that. The door closing after her with a small click.

Draco took a deep cleansing breath. This was not as heartbreaking as he had thought it would be, and yet... He looked around himself, at his apartment, at his cat, at his Muggle equipment.

And yet…

* * *

It wasn’t as if he had planned it. He was practically forced into it by Rebecca. A friend of a friend of a friend type of thing. And here he was, sitting across from a cute looking girl. She had tattoos and piercings and she talked. A lot. Draco nodded along with her as she ate, and talked. He was on a blind date with this girl he had never seen before in his life. His friends had noticed that he was feeling down. And he wasn’t his old self, and so Rebecca’s brilliant idea was to shove him at this girl.

Her name was Kate, and she had shoulder-length, ginger hair. She had a piercing on her eyebrow, and a lip piercing and a nose piercing. She had long sleeve tattoos and some things that probably extended onto her body even more. But he couldn’t see the rest of her because she was wearing a turtle neck dress. She had way too much made up on, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Draco was wearing his best navy blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and slacks. His hair was brushed back. It was a summer evening, and thankfully, it wasn’t hot out. He still, mentally, questioned as to how she wasn’t hot with that turtleneck on.

“So,” she finally took a breather and concentrated on him. She had a big smile, and she had brown eyes. _The wrong eye color,_ his mind filled in unnecessarily. Oddly sounding like Harry’s… “Where did you go to school?”

“Oh, uhm, abroad,” he replied, nodding. “It was this small school. You won’t even know it.”

“Interesting,” she said nodding back. “And what kind of name is, uhm, Drake?”

“Drac- _o_ ,” Draco pronounced it out for him. “And it was a family name.” _Liar,_ the voice said again, sounding like Harry’s. Again.

Draco clenched his jaw.

“That’s interesting.”

“Mhmm.”

“I have to go to the powder room,” she said and she practically flew to the bathroom.

The date was going wrong. They were not a match at all. This was probably the first time she asked him a question. Before that, he had asked her one question, and then the next thing he knew she flew subject through subjects. Most of the time he stopped listening. Only needing to nod and hum. She didn’t even notice it.

All he wanted to do was take and leave, but he was a gentleman and he was going to end the night correctly. So when she came back, he was expecting her to come up with something along the lines of “ _my friend just got into an accident and she needs me”_ or _“my cat is choking on a piece of tuna and I need to get home to save it”_ or anything that would get him out of this place and this date.

“Okay, sorry about that,” she said as she sat back opposite him.

“That’s alright,” he replied with a smile.

She sighed and looked at him. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I’m hating this,” she said. Draco stared at him, feeling relieved. “I mean, I’ve been talking for _hours_ and then I asked you one question and that was a bummer.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, smiling at him. “My friends forced me into this. I didn’t even want to come.”

“Yours too?” Draco asked. And she nodded while laughing. “I mean; you are a great girl. But…”

“But not your type?”

Draco shook his head, looked around himself before he said. “Nope.” He hesitated then. This was a stranger sitting in front of him. He had never spoken about this to anyone before. His friends didn’t know about it. His employees didn’t know about it. But this girl, Kate, she seemed to be open-minded enough to not judge him or accuse him of wasting her time. It seemed that she didn’t want to be here as well. “The person I like doesn’t live here.”

“Aw. I’m sorry. That must be hard.”

“It is,” Draco nodded, looking down at his plate, and then up at her. She had a soft smile on her lips.

“Where does she live then? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Uhm,” Draco hummed and then went for it. “He is from London.”

“Oh!” she jumped a bit in her seat. “ _Oh!_ This must be so horrible for you!”

“No, no! Trust me, no. I mean, yeah him being away from me and not wanting to be with me, is nothing new. Really. But me being on a date with a girl, isn’t new. Or horrible.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, hunching over a bit. She looked like she was feeling awkward.

“Really,” Draco replied with a smile. “This is fine. And it was fun.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. Even though I’m not the preferred gender, or man.”

“It’s alright. Really.”

“Okay. Well,” she sat up straighter. “Tell me about him.”

And Draco did. He told her that they were schoolmates but they never saw eye to eye, until they went through a rough last year of school. He then told her he had to move out of London and live his life on his own, built wealth and invest, and everything. He told her when he met Harry again, and how it all went.

“So yeah. That’s pretty much it.”

“Oh, Draco… I’m so sorry,” she said, and she did look sorry. “And you can’t travel to London to see him, can you?”

“Sadly not…”

“Gosh, this must be so hard for you.”

“It is, but… I’ll be alright,” Draco said with a slight smile and a shrug.

After that they left the bar; Draco took care of the bill and once they went outside, Draco hailed a cab for her. Kate hugged him tightly, which Draco returned. “Thank you for dinner,” she said. “And good luck!”

“Thank you,” he replied. “Get home safely.”

And then he was alone, standing on the curb. The weather was nice and he didn’t feel like going back home so early, and so he decided to take a walk back to his apartment. It was going to take almost an hour and a half to get there, but he had nothing but time. And so he started the hike.

There were some bars open on his way back, so the streets were busy. He could hear some of the music they were playing inside, and he could hear people laughing and talking amongst them. He could see groups of girls making their way from a bar to another bar, and he could see how the men checked them out. In the distance, he could hear the unmistakable sound of the police cars and the ambulance pass by at high speed. He watched as a woman yelled at a man, who in turn laughed in her face for her attempts at whatever they were fighting about. New York at night was different than the one during the day. It was much louder and more crowded. Or it could be because he was in this part of the town.

As he walked away from that, the noise started to die down and it got much calmer than what he was hearing a couple of minutes ago. He stopped at the red light, he was standing behind a group of people, all looking left and right, waiting for the light to turn white for them to cross. The cabs passed by them, and a cop car wheezed by them. Draco looked up and stared at the tall buildings and the way they looked. Half of them lit up with lights, and some of them not. He was trying not to think about his dinner date, and how he practically came out to a stranger; with whom he was on a date. He didn’t even tell her to not tell anyone about it.

He sighed and placed his hands in his pockets. The light turned white and he looked back down to cross the street but then he froze. His heart started to beat faster in his chest and he let out a shaky breath.

Right across the street, in the sea of people that were crossing the street, Harry was standing off to the side. He had his hands behind his back, leaning on his right leg, and he had a small smile on his face. He looked good in a black t-shirt, that was stretched across his chest, and black jeans. It was a simple outfit, but on Harry, it looked amazing.

Draco forced himself to cross the street, the hoard of people walking with him parting as if they knew that he was making his way to the man he liked. He was staring at Harry to the other side, and he continued in doing so as he stepped on the curb and Harry was there, 2 feet away from him. He was so close to him; he could easily raise his hand and he could touch Harry, no questions asked. No doubt about it. But he felt far from him. Too far from him.

“Hi,” Harry said, and he looked different. Much healthier than the last time Draco saw him. He looked better, somehow. Or maybe Draco had missed him so much that he looked different now. Better different. Always better different.

“Hello,” Draco breathed out. “What, uhm, what are you doing here?”

“I had some vacation time. Some _real_ vacation time, and so I thought I’d come back to New York and explore some more,” he said with a nod, his eyes unwavering from Draco’s.

“Okay,” Draco replied. “That sounds cool. Good.”

“Yep,” Harry said. “But to truly grasp what the city has to offer; I need a tour guide.”

“Oh there is a lot of them around Time Sq-“

“A private guide,” Harry added and Draco stopped talking. Harry took a step closer to him. “You see, a couple of months ago I left this city without checking out what this city had to offer. I didn’t _explore_ my options thoroughly. I haven’t seen what a lot of people living here had seen before.”

“Uhm…”

Harry shifted and they were definitely closer now, but he was still so far from him. “We have so much to talk about Draco, but I swear, I want to give this a chance… I don’t want to close the door on something that I haven’t even tested.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Draco said, shaking his head. “I might be having a schoolgirl crush or something along those lines.”

“You never had a school crush on me, Draco,” Harry said, smiling up at him. “You never had that. Especially with me.”

Draco shook his head and looked down at his shoes, and then back up at Harry. “What are you trying to say, Harry?”

“I’m trying to say, that I want to give this a try,” he said. “I’m terrified. I’ve never done this before. But I’m willing to do it. With you.”

“I haven’t done this before either,” Draco said again. “But why me?”

“Why not you?”

_Why not you?_

* * *

They had so much to talk about. So much to go over with together, but they couldn’t do that. Could they? Their hands were heavy on one another, pawing at their shirts and pants, and bodies. Draco pushed him against the closed front door of his apartment. They had to take a cab back there because they didn’t want to stay outside anymore.

He dove in and kissed Harry’s lips, and Harry didn’t freeze. He arched his body up into Draco’s and kissed him back. His hands clutching onto his jaw and hair, while Draco’s hands worked on his jeans and racked up his shirt to take it off. He pushed his shirt up to his armpits and ducked down. He kissed and licked at Harry’s chest and nipples until they were perky enough to twirl with Draco’s nimble fingers. He licked his way down to Harry’s happy trail and the noises that were leaving his mouth were music for Draco.

He knelt before Harry and unzipped Harry’s jeans. He spared a glance up at Harry and found him looking down at him with hungry eyes. His lips red and wet from Draco’s kisses, and his hair a mess from Draco’s hands. A thrill went down his spine as he realized that he put that look on Harry Potter’s face.

“I’ve never done this before,” Draco whispered when he was done unzipping Harry’s jeans. He was faced with a hard-on, straining inside boxer briefs. He swallowed with a click and looked up at Harry again.

Harry licked his lips and then nodded. “Let’s take it slow, okay?”

“Yeah,” Draco nodded back. “Okay.”

“Let’s start by going to bed. Even though this was, uh, is going hot.”

“Sorry,” Draco said as he stood up. Harry grabbed him by the back of his neck and pushed him close for a hard and rough kiss. When he pulled back Draco made an aborted move to kiss him again.

“Don’t-t apologize,” Harry said, his mouth open and ready to take Draco again. And Draco started to kiss him again. This time it was more desperate. Their lips moving harder, and pressing in more together. They stumbled their way to the bedroom; both of them working on Draco’s shirt. They laughed as Draco stumbled on his footing and Harry almost went down with him like that. But they both clutched onto each other and they stopped the tumble.

Harry was the first one to fall on the bed, and Draco went in after him. He held himself up on his hands as he continued to kiss Harry’s lips. At that moment, he realized that he could never have enough kisses.

Draco bit down on his lower lip and then moved down Harry’s body. He kissed and licked, and sucked a hickey on his chest. And Harry arched his back to get more of it. His fingers got tangled in Draco’s hair, and clutched at them, and then ran through them, couple of times. He felt agitated, and Draco loved it.

He loved it.

He sat back and worked on getting Harry free from his jeans and underwear. Harry lifted his hips to help Draco. And once he was fully unclothed, Draco sat back on his heels to look at Harry. His legs were spread out, but not wantonly. He was leaning up against his elbows, and his hair was a mess.

He was hairy. Much hairier than Draco anticipated him to be, but, surprisingly, it didn’t put him off. It just made him feel more aroused by Harry.

Draco moved up Harry’s body and started to kiss him again. He took off his glasses, and threw it on the side of the bed, and then deepened the kiss. Harry pulled him down on top of him, and his hands moved down his back. He slipped them underneath Draco’s pants and he grabbed onto his ass. He squeezed at them and then he pulled his hips down to grind up against him. Draco let out a groan as he felt the pressure on his dick.

“Take it off,” Harry mumbled into his mouth, sounding drunk and aroused and sexy. His voice was deeper and Draco loved it. “Take them off.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, yeah. Help me out.”

They made quick work on him and then he was naked and on top of Harry in a heartbeat. This was something he had never experienced before. It felt amazing and hot and incredible and Draco never wanted to leave this bed again.

“Oh God,” he groaned as he felt their dicks brushing together, his lips going slack on top of Harry’s.

Harry’s hands tightened on his ass, and then moved down to his thighs, so spread his legs over his body. Draco quickly adjusted his legs and he was straddling Harry’s hips now. He could feel Harry’s length, throbbing under his body. He shuddered and closed his eyes, his lips falling open as he started to grind against the heat.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Harry whispered and he clutched at Draco’s thighs. He moved his legs and he planted his feet against the bed and started to move up against Draco’s dick.

Draco shuddered at the feeling and he was starting to get sweaty. But it felt amazing still. He was getting closer to coming, and he somehow knew that Harry wasn’t very far behind. So he grabbed them both in his hands and started to pump them at the same time. Harry’s lips fell open and he squeezed his eyes shut. His head fell back and his neck stretched out in front of Draco. The only rational thing for Draco to do was to start kissing the skin there. Kiss it enough to leave a hickey.

Harry went wild from it, and then the next Draco knew, he manhandled Draco into a position. Draco found himself on his back, with his legs spread open, and Harry kneeling between them. He had both of their dicks in his hands, holding them together as he rubbed them up and down, up and down.

Draco’s eyes rolled back in his head as Harry did something to his head. He did it a couple of times more, and before he could come the feeling disappeared and he felt Harry move from him. Before he could open his eyes and snap at Harry to not move away from him; instead, he let out a choke. Harry had taken him into his mouth and he was sucking at the tip.

It was sloppy, and he had no idea as to what he was doing, but Draco enjoyed it. Because he knew he was going to be so much worse than that if the roles were reversed.

After that, it didn’t take him long to come, and when he did, he had both hands deep in Harry’s hair and he let out a choked out groan, with his teeth clenched together, hard. Harry, on his part, gagged on the taste and he pulled back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but he didn’t stop pumping Draco dry. Draco wanted to take care of Harry, once he calmed down, but Harry was staring at his face while he was masturbating. His hand was a blur, but his concentration from his face never wavered.

Draco had never felt anything like this. He had women look at him as they orgasmed, or stare down at him as he ate them out, but they never looked at him with the same intensity as Harry was doing now. When he came, he cried out, and he bent forward, and over Draco’s body. Their lips found one another and they kissed. It was sloppy and dirty, but they didn’t care.

* * *

The next morning when Draco woke up, he felt cold. He opened his eyes and stretched out his back. He felt pleasantly sore. Sticky in some places because they decided to go at it a couple of times more. He smiles into the pillow and then turned his head to the other side of the bed, only to find it empty. He frowned. Did Harry leave him? After everything they went through, he left again?

Draco was probably panicking for apparent reason. He got up from the bed and grabbed his sweatpants from the armchair next to his bed. He put it on and made his way to the living room. He could hear some noise coming from the kitchen and so he made his way there and he smiled at the scene in front of him. Harry was wearing his underwear and a shirt that was a bit tight on him. Draco realized that it was his shirt Harry decided to wear.

His heart started to beat a bit faster. Not everything was lost then, was it?

He made his way to where Harry was cooking them breakfast. As he approached Harry looked at him over his shoulder, and gave him a small smile, but his eyes were emotionless. Draco leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t know what today was going to bring, but Draco was prepared for it. Well, half-prepared. He wasn’t going to handle it well if Harry were to decide he wanted to leave his ass and go back to the wizarding world. Even though he was supposed to be here for a month. On a vacation.

“Good morning,” Harry said to him as he flipped the eggs to the other side. “I don’t know how you eat your eggs.”

“Uh… this is fine too. I eat just about any kind of food.”

“Good to know,” Harry nodded.

“Do you cook often?” Draco asked. He wanted them to talk, to continue talking, until, Harry would freak out and leave.

“I sort of doing?” Harry replied, shrugging. “I know how to cook some stuff. Not everything.”

“When did you learn?”

“Probably since I was 8 years old?”

“What? Seriously?”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed as he got their eggs out and placed them on plates, then he started on the slices of bacon.

“How come?” Draco asked, frowning. “Weren’t you raised by Muggles?”

“Yup,” Harry nodded but didn’t clarify further.

“So…?”

“Look, the Muggles that raised me wasn’t the best. My uncle liked to use me as a punchline and push me around a lot. My aunt liked to use me as their cook. Well, mostly the breakfast cook. But whatever. And my cousin _loved_ picking up fights with me and bully me around,” he talked about it as if it was a normal thing. As if that happened to everyone who was raised by their aunts and uncles.

“Are you serious?” Draco asked, feeling terrible. “And you never told about this to anyone because…?”

Harry shrugged and turned off the burner. He placed the portions of bacon in their plates and leaned against the counter, “I don’t know. And who was I supposed to tell this to?”

“I don’t know. The Weasleys?”

“Oh, they knew,” Harry nodded, and Draco felt terrible. “They just never could do anything about it. No wait, on our second year Ron and the twins came after me.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Remember the flying car?”

“For which you didn’t get suspended?”

Harry rolled his eyes and his lips twitched into a smile. “So they got the car and drove to London, to rescue me. Dobby fucked up and I paid the price.”

“What did they do to you?” Draco whispered.

“They put bars on my windows,” Harry said smiling up at him bigger. “It was a clever way to do it. Clever Muggle way, but they didn’t know I had the Weasley twins on my side, so. They lost, I won.”

“Oh Harry,” Draco said shaking his head. “I didn’t know.”

“Why would you know? Or _how_ would you know?” Harry looked at him. “It wasn’t _that_ bad. Honestly. I used to sleep in a cupboard under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter. And then they moved me to a bedroom. With my bed and a wardrobe and a desk.”

“You used to _what?_ ” Draco’s eyes widened. He felt horrible and at the same time, he understood why he hated Draco on the spot. He was a bully to Harry and his friends.

“It wasn’t fun, but I got by. Could’ve been worse,” Harry shrugged and smiled at him. “I’m fine now.”

“Obviously,” Draco said, frowning down at the floor.

“Hey,” Harry whispered and he moved in closer to Draco. “You don’t have to feel bad for me.”

“I just….”

“I know,” Harry nodded and he raised his hand to brush Draco’s hair back. “I know.”

“I feel bad now. Even worse than I used to from before. I was horrible to you in school, and I didn’t even know you were going through that at your own home.”

“Draco,” Harry said and he got closer to him. His body fitting perfectly over Draco’s. Draco relaxed his stance and made room for Harry’s legs between his. Harry smiled at him, knowing what he was doing and Draco bit down on his lower lip looking down at Harry. “I know you feel guilty about what happened in school, but believe me when I say, I’m over it.”

“You are?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to feel guilty or close down on me because of the things that happened at school,” Harry said. “We were all kids back then, and we didn’t know better.”

“I guess so…”

“And hey, it wasn’t like I wasn’t being an ass back to you, you know?”

“Well, there is that too,” Draco replied nodding.

“And also, one more thing,” he leaned closer to Draco, his face getting closer to him and Draco thought he was going to kiss him, but instead he said, “Your breath smells.”

“Oh fuck off,” Draco replied laughing, and he pushed Harry away from him, but then grabbed him by his waist, and wrapped his arms around him. Harry wrapped his around Draco’s shoulders, and they hugged. Draco turned his face into Harry’s neck and closed his eyes. Breathing him in.

“Did I tell you how hot I find you wearing my shirt?”

“It’s tight on me,” Harry replied. There was a smile in his voice as he replied. Draco kissed his neck and Harry tightened his hold on him before he pulled away. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Leave a review :)


End file.
